The Best Kept Secrets REWRITTEN
by danniperson
Summary: It was no secret that Ginny Potter favored her daughter over her sons. Only Albus Severus knew this was because Lily was Ginny's only child. SSHP SLASH. Mpreg.
1. The Man Who Lies to the World

**Chapter 1: The Man Who Lies to the World**

It was no secret that Ginny Potter favored her daughter over her sons. No one faulted her. Not her best friend Luna, who often commented on how alike the pair were, both in looks and temperament. Not Molly, the doting grandmother, who knew what a gift it was for a woman to have a daughter. Certainly not Albus Severus, who knew that the truth of the matter was that Lily was Ginny's only child.

It was a secret Albus shared with five others, though none knew of his discovery. Albus rather liked it that way. Albus had a fondness for secrets and the keeping of them. He collected secrets. This one just so happened to be his favorite.

It was this secret Albus contemplated as he twirled a quill between his fingers. A half filled parchment lay on the table before him, ending in the middle of a sentence. Mabel Longbottom, his girlfriend, confided to him a nugget of information he already possessed.

My mother was in healer training for a while. I'm not sure why she ever stopped.

Albus knew why, and he had never been so tempted to explain. Hannah Longbottom had been landlady of the Leaky Cauldron for many years now, but for a time she'd very seriously studied in the healing arts. From hidden letters, Albus knew it was a favor asked by his parents that derailed Hannah's ambitions. A secret they entrusted to no others, and may never have even shared with the Longbottoms had medical care not been necessary.

No man had ever been pregnant before Harry Potter, not that anyone knew it. Oscar Odell had that honor in the history books. Odell was the first full-term pregnancy using the official Masculo Praegnatio Potion recipe. Harry had been the unfortunate first trial, though purely accidental. One headache, a potion mix up, and a good buggering later had the Boy Who Lived in quite the pickle. Determined though they were to pass the child off as Ginny's, they would need close healer supervision, particularly in a condition such as the Wizarding world had never seen before. Their only hope was in the wife of a dear friend who happened to be nearing the completion of her medical studies.

Hannah's involvement with Harry's first pregnancy was too close, required too much secrecy. When her program became suspicious of her questions and her notes, Hannah dropped the program rather than risk the Potters' secret. Albus was unsure if Hannah resented them - she had been perfectly friendly to his family his whole life.

What would Mabel think, Albus mused. What would anyone think?

Humming to himself, Albus dropped the quill to the page and scratched out the remainder of his sentence, secret still snugly bottled up inside. It was safe there. Albus felt secure in it. His very own secret within a secret.

A pop of Apparition followed by muttered voices outside the door pulled Albus from his reverie. Hastily he stuffed the quill and ink back into a drawer and the parchment into the front pocket of his bathrobe. Mabel would forgive creases and tears. She forgave most people most things. His father, however, would take some convincing. The children were supposed to stay out of Harry's office, especially unsupervised. Unfortunately Harry's desk was Albus's favorite place to write. The sixteen year old ducked behind the desk and, when judged safe, darted across the room to the door. His father wasn't near the office yet, but he may be soon, and Albus did not want to be caught there.

The office spilled out into a small hallway off of the living room. It was in that living room Harry Potter stood with one Severus Snape. Albus hesitated in the crack of the door. Severus very rarely visited Godric's Hollow. Albus could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen his other father in this house. They had never been lengthy visits. More often than not the Potters visited Severus's home in Falmouth.

Dropping to his knees, Albus darted to the bathroom across the hall as the men muttered to one another.

"Unhand me, Potter," Severus hissed, shaking Harry off of his arm.

"Stop being stubborn, Severus. You need help."

"I can help myself, you infernal child."

"I am not a child, you dunce. I'm forty one now."

"And I am nearly sixty-one, Potter. I have learned by now to care for myself."

"It wouldn't hurt you to let someone take care of you, for a change."

Albus was intrigued. He meant to prance out of the bathroom and up to his bedroom as if he'd never been near Harry's office. Maybe he'd stop for a chat with both fathers before retiring with a dramatic yawn. Now Albus hung in the dark doorway, sharp eyes noting the limp with which Severus moved. Harry turned and Albus stepped further into the shadows, out of view, holding his breath. After a few moments, listening to nothing but the pounding of his own heart, Albus peeked around the door frame.

At some point during that silence, Harry and Severus had begun kissing. Albus gaped at them from his hiding spot. They had reached the start of the hallway, destination unknown. Harry's back was pressed into the wall, the other's tall body flush against him. Hands tangled in hair, in robes; mouths biting and licking hungrily. Albus had never seen the like. Harry and Ginny always shared chaste, sweet kisses with gentle affection. This was angry. This was agony.

Unable to bear the sight, Albus stepped back into the shadows once more. The image was burned into his eyes. Groping, clawing, violent lust.

Realistically, Albus always knew Harry and Severus had once been intimate. How else would he and James exist but not for that? Only Albus had assumed their romance had ended years ago. The teen pressed his palms into his eyes to drive away the sight of them. Harry and Ginny had been separated during both conceptions, hadn't they? Albus thought of fond smiles and clasped hands shared between the married Potters. They loved each other, didn't they? Harry would never hurt his wife in that way, would he?

A needy whimper sounded from nearby. Albus hesitated before looking, wondering if the sound was pleasure or pain. Severus's mouth had latched to Harry's throat, Harry's hands clutching at his back, one leg hooked around his lover's. Pale, slender fingers pressed to the front of Harry's trousers. Eager hips pressed forward into the touch. Harry's head banged back into the wall and his palms pushed gently at Severus's chest.

"Merlin, Sev'rus…we can't," Harry reluctantly gasped.

Severus stiffened and shoved away. His bad leg buckled beneath him. Harry reached out to aid him, but Severus caught himself on the wall and slapped away Harry's hand. "Of course not," Severus snapped. "It isn't as though you have ever been unfaithful to Ms. Weasley."

"Mrs. Potter," Harry corrected coldly. He sighed, tension melting from his shoulders as he rubbed the back of his neck. "It's been five years, Severus. Doesn't make it okay since we…before."

"Take me home, Potter," Severus demanded.

"It's Harry."

"You're only Harry when I'm balls deep in your arse, boy," Severus hissed, grasping unruly black hair and forcing Harry's head back. Dark eyes flicked down to Harry's mouth. Albus couldn't see his dad's face, but he did spot the hand rising to cup Severus's elbow. "Take me home."

Harry broke himself free and walked towards the living room. "It's not safe. You should stay here, in the guest room."

"You apprehended my attackers, Potter. Unless you plan on joining me, I see no reason to remain." Severus stalked Harry like a predator towards the couch. Harry was shaking his head, denials too quiet and strained for Albus to make out the words. He gleaned the meaning through tone and expression. "If you were so concerned about your wife, you would leave me be."

Harry stared at Severus for a long moment, a spasm in his tight jaw. "You know I can't."

"Because you love me?" Severus spat.

"Yes." Albus couldn't hear the word, it was so quiet, but he was excellent at reading lips. His heart clenched at the shine in Harry's eyes, wondering if they were tears, or if it was a trick of the light.

Severus snorted cruelly. "Thank you for your aid, Auror Potter."

Albus pressed his back against the door, not daring to watch as Severus stumbled across the living room, fumbling with the objects on the mantle. Only when he heard the hiss of the Floo did he count to ten and peer out. Harry still stood there, back to Albus, one arm wrapped around his middle, the other rubbing at his eyes. Albus swallowed around the lump in his throat. Was his dad crying? Harry took a shuddering breath, muttering to himself, "Idiot."

When Harry began to turn, Albus quickly hid himself again, hoping his dad didn't need to relieve himself. Thankfully it was into his office that the man disappeared. When the door clicked shut, Albus quietly crept up to his bedroom with a heavy heart.

* * *

If Albus was distant for the rest of Christmas holiday, no one commented on it. Holing up in his room with his books was not an unusual habit. Staring off into space, lost in thought, was a common expression for his narrow face. James teased him for being heartsick, apart from Mabel for so long. James mimed a fairly disgusting display of kissing that Albus found to be unfair. He and Mabel made a much classier sight than that in the corridors, if he did say so himself. Lily and Ginny gagged exaggeratively while Harry laughed into his pumpkin juice.

Albus afforded James a very indignant glare, and otherwise kept his gaze away from anyone. Especially Harry.

Back at Hogwarts, life resumed some shade of normalcy. He and Scorpius stayed up late into the night, discussing conspiracy theories in their dormitory. By day Albus walked Mabel to class and kissed her in corners. If he was more distracted than usual, Mabel broached the subject with nothing but selfless concern. Her Hufflepuff kindness, which first attracted Albus, now left him with gnawing guilt. He felt undeserving of her patience. He wasn't sure why. Albus wasn't the one to betray the people who trusted him.

Never in his life had Albus been so tempted to share his secret. Never before had it felt so much like a burden. His oldest, dearest friend had become poison in his veins.

Wide-eyed Scorpius would share rumors of Headmistress McGonagall being impersonated by a Polyjuiced goblin. Albus would bite his tongue until it bled, wanting to scream the truth at him. "My father is cheating on my beautiful mother with an ugly, acerbic bastard who just so happens to be my other father. Funny enough, my mother is not really my mother. My dad gave birth to me and James. We are the products of his infidelity. He swallowed the words and they tasted like bile.

Scorpius might consider whether Harry had ingested the potion voluntarily, or if Severus had spiked his pumpkin juice with it. Albus wondered that himself. The words were right there, ready to tumble from his quivering lips. He could be free of this. He wouldn't be alone with his thoughts anymore. Scorpius would be his sounding board. The words bounded around his skull, banging and begging to be set free.

Sitting beneath a tree, gazing into Mabel's clear blue eyes, he felt the words pulling forth as to a magnet. Her hands were soft in his, soothing his uneasy soul. The way her honey blond hair gleamed in the sunlight was entrancing. Everything about her called to him, safety and security for all of his troubles. The words sat heavy on his tongue. "Is it wrong, do you think, that I wish they could be together? I love my mother, but Severus is my real parent. He and my dad are still in love. Is it bad that I want Dad to leave Mum for Severus? That I want to be a family with them instead? Or to at least know what it's like?"

Oh how he yearned to confide in her. Even still the words hit a barrier that not even sweet Mabel could break through.

Whatever Albus felt for his fathers, he couldn't reveal what had been hidden for so long. However tempting, he had sealed the truth inside of himself, and he didn't know how to let go.

* * *

In June, James graduated. An entire row was reserved for the Weasley-Potter clan of which Severus Snape happened to be part. Even after all these years, the Potters' friendship with their old professor, and their naming him godfather to their children, raised brows. Nearby families watched and whispered as he joined them. He sat in the middle of the row, only Albus separating him from Harry. Albus barely paid mind to the ceremony, too aware of the tension between his fathers. Or was that only his imagination? Lily sat between Harry and Ginny. Fitting, Albus mused, how they each sat between both of their parents.

"James Sirius Potter," Headmistress McGonagall called.

Severus didn't smile. He didn't hoop and holler as the Weasleys did. He clapped politely as he watched James swagger across the stage, offering a theatrical bow to the headmistress as she placed his diploma in his open hand. Only Albus saw the pride shining in those dark eyes.

The same dark eyes that sparkled mischievously in James's face as he winked at the crowd.

* * *

For a week the family celebrated James's achievements. James wouldn't let them do otherwise. He was proud as could be of his NEWT scores, of all of the Quidditch offers being sent by owl, of making McGonagall blush when he kissed her cheek. He would brag to anyone who would stand still long enough about his successful school years and the promise of a bright future ahead.

All the while some dark corner of Albus's brain plotted.

By the time the first Sunday of summer holidays rolled around, the Potter household was marginally calmer. Albus sat on the settee, eyes glued to Mabel's most recent letter, taking none of it in. James and Harry conversed nearby about the pros and cons of each Quidditch team courting James. Albus nervously shifted his legs, green eyes flicking up to the clock. It was nearly time.

"Look at me, boys!" Lily exclaimed, bursting into the living room. Fourteen years old, she still playfully twirled like a child to show off the flowing of her new periwinkle dress. Her private enjoyment of frivolity was hidden behind false humor, as evidenced by her laughter and exasperated shrug.

"Mum, you never get me new dresses!" James complained.

Ginny rolled her eyes from behind Lily, extending a choice of two ribbons to her daughter. "I'll buy you the gown of your dreams when you settle on a team."

James grinned. "Promise?"

"Does that mean you like it, Jamesy?" Lily giggled, twirling the opposite direction.

"Come now, we don't want to be late," Harry said, checking his watch. "You know how Severus is."

"Mean?" Lily suggested.

"Killjoy?" James added.

"Bitter?" Ginny muttered.

"Has better things to do than wait around for us?" Albus put in, a tad more harshly than intended. Only Ginny gave him a confused look for this, as James and Lily were still trading adjectives of a negative nature.

"Particular, was what I had in mind," Harry interjected, amused. "Come along, line up."

One by one the Potters Flooed directly into Snape's living room. It was a cramped space, with more furniture than a bachelor warranted. Albus figured it was their fault. More furniture was needed to accommodate his frequent guests. The armchair was Severus's, the settee for the couple, the puffy couch for the children. Numerous tables for drinks and snacks and books and games. There was even a small bookshelf squeezed between a table and the couch, which Albus appreciated. Over the years it came to be filled with more of Albus's favorite genres, with a few Quidditch titles that could only have been thrown in for James's benefit.

Surprisingly, the room was empty when Albus entered, an open book face down on the arm of the chair. He frowned, stepping aside to avoid being trampled by James. Lily shrieked from a nearby room. Albus and James glanced at each other then rushed towards the sound of her voice.

In the kitchen, Lily hovered where Severus stood at the sink. "Oh, Uncle Sev'rus, what happened?"

"Oh, Merlin," James whispered. "Dad! Mum! Come quick!"

Severus was shirtless, letting cool water from the faucet ease nasty burns on his arms. Two sets of pounding footsteps later and suddenly the tiny kitchen was packed with six people. Albus shuffled closer to allow his parents entrance, but also to steal a closer look at the injuries.

"My apologies," Severus said calmly. "I should have owled that I would be unavailable this morning, but I rather lost track of the time."

"Severus, what did you do?" Harry demanded, rushing to his side. "Lily, move along. Go with your mother."

"Will Uncle Sev'rus be okay?" Lily asked shakily as she backed away.

"Never fear, child," Severus assured her through a wince. Albus hoped Lily didn't see the blood dripping down the man's other side. "I have endured much worse."

"Come, Lily, James, Albus," Ginny directed, stepping aside to gesture the children ahead of her. James pushed Lily ahead of him, glancing back to the scene with concern. Ginny impatiently beckoned Albus forward.

"Go on, Mum. I'll be more help than Dad," Albus said, rolling up his sleeves. Harry had his hand on Severus's lower back, the other cupping his wounded hand, leaning in close to whisper soothingly. Ginny's eyes flashed, but she walked away without a word.

"I don't need you, Potter," Severus snarled, jerking his wounded arm away. The hand on his back stroked up and down comfortingly.

"Clearly you need a chaperon," Harry snapped. "You're content to bleed out in the sink, are you?"

Their nearness was unbearable to Albus, that charged air between them. Albus could feel it from where he stood. They had eyes only for one another. Was Harry touching Severus more than usual, taking advantage of the situation? Was that energy as much sexual as it was angry?

"One of Professor Longbottom's experiments, then, was it?" Albus finally asked, breaking the spell between them. Harry instantly shifted away from Severus, who stiffened instead. Had they forgotten he was there, or had they never noticed in the first place?

"Indeed," Severus agreed. "He sent me samples of his new mandrake-mugwort abomination. I may tell him to burn the entire crop."

Albus nodded. "I'll grab some supplies." As he headed to the potions storeroom, he saw Harry step closer, reaching out again. His addled mind struggled to differentiate between salves he normally grabbed instinctively. Nerves caused him to fumble with the jars, so that he held them close to his chest as he reentered the kitchen.

"I have tended myself before, you impudent child."

"You shouldn't have to. Ah, there he is." Harry was standing at Severus's other side, examining the nasty cut that stretched from underarm to elbow. "I can handle this, Al."

"You shouldn't have to," Albus mocked, handing Harry one of the jars and keeping the other to himself. "Pat that over the cut. Don't rub it." Severus turned his head away from Harry as he smirked. The sight of it eased something in Albus, pleasure warming his chest. Severus was not an easy man to amuse.

Quietly they worked. Harry patted the yellow balm into the jagged cut. Albus carefully massaged a gray salve into the burns on his left arm. Severus stared resolutely out of the window, entire body tense. Albus curiously eyed the old scars on his chest and his back when he dared. They must have come from his spying days. The two punctures in his neck were from Nagini, he knew, but what could have caused that mass of scar tissue between his shoulder blades? The twin lines down his chest could be from any number of poisonous, thorny plants, likely from Neville's stock.

The area Albus had most access to was the Dark Mark on his left forearm. The burn covered the faded snake. "Your Uncle Severus was a Slytherin, and he is probably the bravest man I have ever known," he recalled his dad saying. The tattoo was gray and pitiful now, but still a symbol of great fear from a dark time. It was the mark of Severus's greatest shame. Albus could tell it bothered the man that he was so near it. His jaw clenched whenever Albus's fingers brushed over the mark.

"I'm proud you're my father," Albus wanted to assure him. "I always have been." Harry's words had been a comfort, but when Albus was sorted into Slytherin it was the deeper meaning he took to heart. His other father was a hero, too. The Slytherin side of his nature was honestly come by, and nothing to fear. He was proud as he wrote to his parents of his sorting, more enthused in his letter to "Uncle Severus" than anyone. Albus liked to think Severus was the most proud of him. He liked to think it meant something to the man, that one of his sons followed in his footsteps.

"Al," Harry said gently. "It's okay, I can finish from here."

Albus's lips trembled, throat tight, struggling to keep his emotions at bay. It was not the injuries that bothered him so, but how could he explain the torrent of longing and frustration, and the weight of his silence affecting him? Severus carefully tugged his arm free. "Thank you, Albus. That will be all."

Harry took over treating the burns. Albus left the kitchen in a daze. Ginny, James, and Lily were laughing in the living room. Albus passed them by, climbing the stairs to the attic. Attics had always been his favorite room in any house, but especially here. It was where he first learned the truth of his parentage, in letters and photos hidden at the bottom of a locked trunk.

As had been his intention all along, he dug for his favorite photo and pocketed it. He then sat on the trunk until his mother called for him to leave. Those thirty minutes passed by in the blink of an eye. Likely they only stayed long enough for Harry to treat the wounds. Their visits were usually much longer than this. Albus wondered if the wizards made the most of their minimal time, if they dared touch and kiss with the others so close. Would it bother them that their time was so short, or glad to part from such temptation?

* * *

Lily and James were already gone by the time Albus walked downstairs. Severus was fully clothed now, resting in his armchair with a warm cup of tea. Harry and Ginny stood by the fireplace, jar of Floo powder in hand.

"Actually, I'd like to stay a few minutes, if that's alright?" he asked, looking to Severus. The man was wounded, but if Albus didn't do this now, he wasn't sure he ever would.

Severus held his gaze for a moment, then nodded to Harry and Ginny. Albus didn't look at his parents as they silently Flooed home. Only when they were gone did Albus pull the picture from his pocket.

"I'd like to keep this, if you don't mind," Albus said, holding it out.

Brows furrowed, Severus took the picture. His fingers tightened around it, looking sharply up at him. "How," he demanded through clenched teeth, "did you lay your grubby hands on this?"

Albus shrugged and shuffled on his feet. "Uncle George showed me how to pick locks ages ago. I found that when I was nine, about."

Severus's face was paler than usual as he stared down at the picture, left eye twitching. Right thumb smoothed carefully across the image. Albus knew the scene by heart. Harry was seated at the end of the couch, Severus in the armchair he sat in now. Severus in the photo leaned towards Harry to rest his hand on the rounded belly. Harry in the photo smiled, covering that hand with his own. The pair shared a soft, sad look.

"He was…pregnant…with me in this one, wasn't he?" Albus asked. He had to cough out the word 'pregnant', so unnatural on his tongue. Severus glanced up at him, but didn't respond. "My mum didn't take that, did she?" A jerk of the man's shoulder could have been a shrug or pain. "I don't imagine she was thrilled by any of this."

"Hannah Longbottom," Severus explained. "She was…checking on him. And you."

"Oh. I should have guessed," Albus said. "I saw the letters, too. I knew she was involved."

"You're a sneaky brat, like your father," Severus commented, more exhausted than truly irritated. "No regard for others' privacy."

Albus had no response to that. He had always been a curious boy, on the hunt for truth to uncover. Albus was always snooping, but he never told any of the secrets he found. They were his for safekeeping. He never told anyone of James's preference for men, or Lily's crush on Cian Finnegan, not Aunt Audrey's affair, or cousin Roxanne's shoplifting. Even this revelation ate at him, and it was with someone who shared the knowledge. Albus didn't know how to explain any of this, so instead he said, "Can I keep it, then? Please?"

"No," Severus whispered. "Who else knows?"

"No one," Albus replied, shoulders slumping. "I'd never tell. Not ever." He swallowed. "But I saw you kissing Dad. At Christmas. You should be more careful."

Severus frowned. "Clearly." He rested the photo face down on his knee. "My possessions are not yours to take as you wish, but you may…examine these at your leisure. If you keep them to yourself."

"I have this long, haven't I?" Albus snapped, offense at last breaking through his despondency.

Severus nodded. "You should go home now, Albus, before your mother frets."

Frustrated, Albus marched to the fireplace. The Floo jar was still open on the mantle. Trust his father to never put the lid back on. A pinch of powder between his fingers and he replaced the top with his free hand. Before he could leave, Severus spoke behind him.

"You should know what these visits have meant, over the years," the man stated gruffly, uncertainly. Tears stung Albus's eyes.

"Yeah," he replied. "I know."


	2. When Its Back Was Turned

**Chapter 2: When Its Back Was Turned**

James Sirius was eighteen years old and a Hogwarts graduate. He felt on top of the world as never before, or at least more so than usual. Life had been kind to James, exceedingly kind. He was tall, athletic, and handsome, never wanting for friends or dates. His talent on a broom rivaled that of both parents, which accounted for the numerous offers from various professional teams seeking him out. The wealth of his family meant he would never struggle to get by, which also meant he could afford to be generous with others.

What could a wizard want, when he had it all? Popularity, talent, and money? Why, he wanted what he couldn't have, of course. Or at least what he shouldn't have.

Mother and sister were out visiting Aunt Angelina and cousins Fred and Roxanne. Father and brother were out grocery shopping. The house was empty, save for James, and the family owl. What better time to invite over a guest? A guest whose company he wished to indulge in to the fullest.

"I wonder why the Harpies didn't give me a shot," James joked. "Aren't I pretty enough?"

Teddy laughed from across the table, shuffling the pile of letters between them. "You're very pretty, Jame."

James's heart fluttered at the nickname only Teddy used. The upward curve of those soft pink lips always set butterflies racing in his belly. Teddy was too aware of his charm, flushing pink and dropping his brown eyes. When they met James's again, they were the pink-orange of sunset. James laughed softly and glanced away, horrified to feel his own face heating.

"Well," Teddy continued, clearing his throat. "You know I've always been a fan of the Falcons."

"Yeah," James agreed, which was precisely why they were in his top three. "The Tornadoes have always done very well."

Teddy had played Chaser, as James did, while in school. He'd had offers himself, though he had never cared for the game professionally. It disappointed his grandmother and godparents. Not only his refusal to play professionally, but his lack of ambitions at all. To them, all of Teddy's talents were wasted by his aimlessness. He had no passion for any career, instead moving from one job to the next, wherever his wandering heart took him. James didn't mind. He found it endearing, really.

James found much of Teddy to be endearing.

"Here," James said, boldly rising from his chair and walking around to Teddy's side of the table. He sank smoothly into the chair beside the older wizard, leaning in close and resting his hand near Teddy's to point out one of the offers. Teddy didn't move his hand away. "What do you think of the Kestrels? Dad really thinks I should go with them."

His heart drummed enthusiastically in his chest when Teddy turned his face towards his. Uncontrolled, his previously brown hair sprung into pale blond curls. "I hate to sound cheesy, but I really think you should just follow your heart."

"You may be right," James agreed. It so happened that his heart led him forward, pressing his lips confidently against Teddy's. His mouth was every bit as soft and sweet as it looked. The blond curls were silky between his fingers, hugging each digit lovingly. Teddy's hand cupping his jaw drove every thought right out of his mind. He wasn't sure at what point he slipped into Teddy's lap, but he was very glad to find himself there.

* * *

Shopping done, Harry dropped Albus off at home before turning and driving to Severus's cottage. Apparation or Floo would have been faster, but driving gave him time to think. The owl this morning bore only a short note requesting his presence this afternoon. No explanation, not even a please. Harry should have declined.

Instead he drove eagerly, mind buzzing with possibilities. By the time he pulled into Severus's driveway, all of that excitement had given way to dread. There was only one reason Severus would want Harry alone. He thought the whole drive about the incident after Christmas, the kiss that still left him burning with desire. It had been the right thing to do, to send Severus away, but he still felt abiding regret for doing so. He loathed himself for surrendering to the kiss, even if it was only a kiss; he loathed himself for not surrendering more of himself, marriage be damned.

Severus was right. It wouldn't have been the first time. Setting the car into park, he stared at the too familiar door and slumped back into his seat. He had helped choose this town and this house for Severus, helped him move into it. This was where their story truly began.

After all Severus had done for the war effort, it was the least anyone could do to make sure he was set up well in the aftermath. Harry was a frequent visitor to St. Mungo's during his recovery. To Severus's irritation, Harry insisted on helping him find a new home, a new job, and making sure he attended all of his follow-up appointments. The Falmouth cottage suited Severus's needs nicely, with a garden for ingredients and a spacious basement workroom for brewing. His new career as a potioneer contracted to St. Mungo's provided ample freedom for experimentation and prestige by association.

Harry wasn't sure when his helpfulness became selfish, when a sense of obligation bloomed into friendship. At some point the biting remarks became friendly jibes. At some point tension melted into companionship. They still fought until Harry stormed out in a fury, but he always returned and Severus always let him.

The first year after the war was difficult for all of them. Harry drank more than he should until Ginny badgered him into therapy. She saw a therapist herself. To no one's surprise he was diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. He and Ginny broke up and got back together no less than five times in a three year period, though the public never caught wind of it. The press painted their portrait with the colors of glory, never suspecting the darker shades of fear and resentment. Only when Harry was kicked out of Auror training for anger management problems did anyone become aware of a real issue. What had anyone expected, after all he had been through? After all he had done?

It was that day he realized he and Severus were friends, because the Falmouth cottage was the first place he thought to go. A scowling face greeted him at the door, but didn't refuse him or his requests for firewhisky. They didn't speak, only sharing companionable silence and shared grief. At some point, he passed out, and awoke midday on the couch with a hangover potion on the end table. The house was empty at the time. Harry assumed Severus was working and left in embarrassment before the man could come home.

Things had been simpler back then, Harry mused. Those were the days before he'd fallen irrevocably in love with the stoic man. The time when he could bear to be near his intimidating ex-professor without his heart shattering into millions of pieces. Those were the years spent suffering the worst of nightmares, trying to piece his life together, struggling to move past the horrors of the war. He had been so angry with himself and with the world, so bitter from all of the loss he had suffered so young in life. The weight of the world on his shoulders before he was old enough to understand. Did he miss the instability? The alcoholism? The fights with Ginny? The anger management classes? The hole in his life where purpose had once been?

Oh, but that was the hardest pill to swallow. He had been the Chosen One, the Boy Who Lived, for so long. Who was he now that his destiny had been fulfilled?

Ginny had stood by his side through all of it. Through her own nightmares, her own pain, selflessly offering him love and comfort. She stood up to him when he was hellish, was his rock when he was falling apart, and offered rare moments of beauty and joy in his darkness. So when he was twenty, he proposed and, within months, Molly Weasley had planned a romantic ceremony. Ginny was a vision in her simple white gown, white flowers plaited into her fiery red hair. With two little words he was welcomed into the Weasley family officially, and for a night felt more stable and secure than he had in years.

All that he went through, Severus was there in the background of his life. Nights with just the two of them sharing a drink and barbed words. One bad night on the couch had Severus sending him home with Dreamless Sleep. By the time the wedding rolled around, Harry was visiting Severus several times a week.

Falling in love with Severus had been a trap, a slow game enacted by a cruel fate. Life had been too crazy for him to spare extra thought for the growing civility between them.

Memories flashed through his mind and he sighed, pressing a palm firmly into his aching head. Harry should leave rather than test his resolve against temptation. It would tear them both to shreds if Harry had to deny Severus once more. What else could he do? He'd put Ginny through enough. She deserved better. He had been faithless too many times to count, if not in deed, then in thought. Difficult as it had been to turn away in December, it had been wrong of him to indulge as he had; kissing Severus back, touching every inch of the man he could reach, basking the feel and taste of him as long as he dared. It wasn't fair to Ginny. It wasn't fair to Severus.

It was wrong of him to hope for kisses today, that he might let himself enjoy. It was wrong to envision initiating a kiss himself. He shouldn't think that way, hope for those things. Shouldn't risk what might follow if he couldn't stop himself again.

It was hard. Because all he could think of now was the first time.

He had been twenty three at the time. Problems had arisen between Ginny and himself yet again, and they had separated. For the first time, Wizarding news outlets had caught on, broadcasting their breakup to the world. Everyone had theories about the dissolution of his marriage. A resurgence of Harry's anger? Yes, but not to the extreme it had once been. He was a working Auror now, after a successful anger management course. Alcoholism? Another win for the rags. Abuse? Never. They might yell, and he may have punched a wall or two, but he had never laid hands on Ginny like that, nor she to him. Cheating on both ends? No. Not that he knew of, at least.

Not yet.

Ginny had their Godric's Hollow home to herself, while Harry packed his belongings off to Grimmauld Place. There was peace, now that he and his wife weren't screaming themselves hoarse, but the house was lonely with only Kreacher for company. More and more Harry found himself in Severus's cottage, drinking his sorrows away. He was laid out on a rug in front of the fireplace, idly swirling the firewhisky in his glass, tilting his head up for every sip. If the liquid sloshed down his neck, his friend didn't comment on it. The crackling warmth of the fire settled his nerves, and the drink in his hand chased away every miserable thought. Only when he finished the first glass did he pay mind to the room around him, sitting up to pour a second. To his surprise he found Severus watching him, such intensity in his gaze that set his pulse racing. Irritation set in, half expecting the man to berate him, ready to jump to his own defense.

It took a few seconds for Severus to realize he'd been caught. An ugly flush stained his sallow face, turning himself away from Harry's scrutiny. When he glanced back, his face was tense and guarded, but heat lingered beneath the surface, causing Harry's stomach to knot. Harry licked his lips. "What?"

Infuriatingly, the man only quirked a brow.

"You've been staring at me," he huffed impatiently, setting his glass aside.

"I'm waiting for you to finish whinging so that I might have some peace," Severus replied smoothly. Too smoothly.

"I haven't said a word!" Harry snapped.

"You're moping."

"I'm drinking! Bloody hell."

"You're agonizing over some foolish bint who can't be bothered to make her marriage work," he snarled. "All she desired of you was your fame and fortune. Now that she has that, what need has she of you?"

"What?" Harry asked. At first he was too stunned to be properly angry, though he could feel wrath bubbling beneath the surface. He laughed incredulously, shaking his head. "It's not like that. Ginny's not…Ginny doesn't care about those things. I told you, we've been fighting a lot. It's not anyone's fault. We…we both have a lot of stuff to work through. But she's not…she's not like that."

"Why not?" the older wizard demanded coldly. "The poor little Weasley chit has never known anything but poverty. The only reason anyone has paid her any mind was her connection to the Boy Who Lived. Before you befriended her moronic brother, she was nothing. Now? Now she's the wife of our savior, Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, with probably more money than she knows what to do with, her face plastered all over the media. All of her wildest fantasies have come to life. Now, as any young gold digger would crave, she is off to find other avenues to expand her fame and wealth. She's used you for all you're worth and now you are to be cast aside without thought or care."

"What the bloody hell has gotten into you?" Harry demanded. "Ginny's been nothing but good to your ungrateful arse! Now you want to say…she's not…how could you think that?"

"How could you not, you blind fool?" Severus spat furiously, pushing himself out of his armchair. Harry scrambled to his feet, knocking over his glass in the process. Was the man really going to fight him over his wife? Where had all of this come from? Severus advanced on him. "Will you crawl back to her the moment she deigns to want you again?"

"Why wouldn't I…I wouldn't crawl, but…she's my wife!" Harry exclaimed, words as jumbled as his mind.

"A foolish mistake on your part, I must say." The taller wizard was too close, sharing his air. Harry backed away until he hit the wall, and Severus met him there.

Harry's heart picked up, racing erratically. "You're not jealous, are you?"

Fury flared in Severus, and Harry thought he saw hints of panic join in. "Why you little…"

"Jealous! That's it. Because you're stuck here all alone," Harry spat. The older man snorted, but Harry rambled on, trying to make sense of the anger that had taken possession of his friend. "You may be a heartless bastard, but even you get lonely. Do you miss my mum? Is that it? Does Ginny remind you of her? Or is it just Ginny you want?"

"I am hardly attracted to your wife, Potter," Severus retorted. "She has the body of a prepubescent boy. I am frankly astonished by the amount of lust she supposedly inspires in her fan base."

"She does not look like a boy!" Harry fumed. Ginny was beautiful. Her body was healthy and athletic, not a stick figure like one saw in magazines, or the curvaceous figures Ron preferred, with more breasts than one knew what to do with. Her long red hair was every bit as feminine and feisty as she was. It made perfect sense for people to want her. She was one of the prettiest witches Harry knew. "Merlin, what is wrong with you?"

"There is nothing wrong with me," Severus replied stiffly. "I am merely puzzled by your wish to remain in a marriage that clearly is not working for either of you."

"You seem awfully ready for me to divorce her," Harry laughed bitterly. "You do want her, don't you?"

"No, Potter, I do not want her."

"Then what…"

"Are you truly this dense, Potter? Must I spell it out for you?"

"Please!"

Harry waited on edge, pressed against the wall, watching Severus struggle with his decision. The older wizard was at a loss as how to proceed. Severus ran so hot and cold, one or the other, but the ice was melted and the inferno blazed within. Harry could feel the heat of it, the anger of it, sensing something else lurking alongside it. Severus was so in control so much of the time, but Harry was one of the triggers that dragged all of his repressed rage to the surface. Only Harry wasn't sure how he had set it off this time. He had only asked a simple question, leading them here. Now Severus looked for all the world wishing he could run away or punch Harry in the face. Possibly both.

"It would not be wise," Severus finally said, clutching to what of his dignity remained after such a display.

"Don't play the coward now, Snape," Harry snapped.

There was one surefire way to push Severus's buttons. Before Harry was aware of his movement, Severus's hands shot forward, grasping the front of his jumper, urging Harry up to his toes. "Don't you dare play this game with me, Potter. I'm no coward, as you should well know." He licked his lips and glanced away. "You don't understand what you are requesting. You would surely regret the acquisition of such knowledge, were I so inclined to share."

"Only one way to find out," Harry dared. The air between them was fraught with tension Harry wished to dispel. He knew the taste of it too well by now, with every fight between Ginny and himself, between himself and Severus. He thrived on it. He hated that about himself. Nervously he licked his lips and Severus's gaze dropped to follow his tongue's movement.

Suddenly the grasp on his jumper loosened, fingers instead digging into his hair and Severus's mouth was pressed viciously against his own. Immediately he tried to jerk away, but there was nowhere to go. Severus's grip on him tightened, pressing him harder into the wall, teeth and lips weapons against him. Panic surged within him and, with all of his strength, he managed to shove Severus away and punched him in the face as hard as he could. Severus fell to the floor and Harry ran from the house without looking back.

For two weeks he didn't see or hear from Severus Snape. Yet he was with Harry all of the time as he replayed the kiss in his mind over and over again. Not jealous of him over Ginny, but jealous of Ginny over him? It didn't make sense.

It didn't make sense how his mind reeled with possibilities. He was too aware of his mouth, wondering if it would have been better if he had kissed Severus back. No, it was a cruel joke, a spiteful means of getting Harry out of his hair. And yet…there was the fire burning within the other wizard, something more than anger. Lust, his mind supplied, looking back. Anger and desire tangled within. It spoke to the same tangled mess within himself. Rage called to rage, and as to the other…Harry didn't dare ponder it.

It wasn't until Ginny first uttered the word "divorce" two weeks later that gave Harry the courage to see his friend again. Nervous energy ate him up, demanding release. He wasn't sure what he was going to do with it as he stormed up to Severus's front door, letting himself in without knocking. Severus rushed in from the kitchen snarling, vexation turning to wariness when he recognized Harry. Harry thought he might hit him as he marched up to the man.

But Harry didn't hit him. The arms that reached out instead grabbed Severus, pulling him near, grasping into stringy, greasy hair, pulling him down into a very thorough kiss. Severus's arms didn't hesitate to wrap around him, holding him as close as possible. The hours that followed needed no words, only the passion driving them into the bed upstairs. The dark, hateful mass within Harry broke loose that night, purged from his soul by every hungry caress and needy kiss.

Even now, every inch of his body tingled in response to the memory. He bit his lips, swearing he could feel the ghost of those searing kisses against them. Skin burned to think of skillful hands worshiping his bare flesh. More importantly, the vivid image of Severus finally pressing deep inside of his body. Emerald eyes fluttered shut, head falling back against the seat, butt cheeks clenched against the ache of emptiness contrasting the remembered burn as his body was stretched open for the first time around his lover's generous cock. The pain never mattered compared to the rewarding sensation of being so full. He sighed quietly at the scene his mind replayed of sweating, writhing bodies and the constant stream of moans and gasps. Embarrassingly he felt his trousers grow tight as he became steadily aroused, eyes flicking open, willing the thoughts to flee when he realized what was happening and where.

He couldn't stay. He couldn't do this. With a shaky hand, he fumbled for the gear shift to reverse. Severus was in the doorway beckoning him inside before he could do so. Had Severus not been so recently injured, Harry might have thrown himself at that tall, imposing figure. "Take me," he'd whispered that night, pleased by the way Severus trembled beneath his hands. "Please." Harry turned off the car, already cursing himself as he followed Severus inside.

This was always easier with Ginny and the kids. Harry hadn't visited without them in the past five years, since he finally put an end to their torrid affair. Five long years since Severus had been inside of him. There was nothing Harry wanted more than to drag him upstairs and ride him into oblivion. Ginny and the kids he reminded himself, bracing himself as the door clicked shut and he was alone with the man he loved.

"No need to be afraid, Potter. I don't bite," Severus said, smoothly lowering himself into his favorite chair. "Not unless you beg me for it."

Desire burned in his gut, though he forced himself to roll his eyes as naturally as possible, calmly sitting on the couch as far from Severus as he could be. "I'm sure people request it often," he muttered sarcastically. Teeth nipping at his mouth, sinking into his neck, scraping against his inner thighs. Harry blinked rapidly to banish the images.

Severus smirked slyly. "More than you would care to know."

Ice shot down his spine, shocking to the fire that had been boiling his blood. "What?" he asked dumbly.

Severus looked at him as though he were being intentionally stupid. "Don't tell me you were under the assumption that I play celibate when you're not spreading your legs for me."

Actually, that was exactly what Harry thought. While Harry felt undeniable attraction to the man, he was not traditionally handsome. Nor was he traditionally charming. In fact, Severus was right unpleasant most of the time, to most people.

Also, Harry knew that Severus loved him. He might not be the most expressive person in the best of times, but Harry knew it was true. Just as he knew that Severus knew Harry returned that love. It did surprise him that Severus had known other lovers since Harry. While he was with Harry, as well? Not that it mattered. It couldn't matter.

"What? When? Who?" Harry babbled unthinkingly.

"That is hardly any of your concern, Mr. Potter," Severus said, appearing to relish in Harry's discomfort. "A few individuals over the years. Most recently I have shared an arrangement with a coworker. Esther Unger."

"Esther Unger?" he repeated. Looking into this woman would be easy, particularly for the Head Auror. Coworker. That meant St. Mungo's. A healer, perhaps? Or a fellow potioneer? Did they have sex here, in this house? Harry felt lightheaded. Or maybe at the hospital itself, in dark closets or on worktables. Who was this woman? Probably ugly, Harry thought viciously, and older. A few minutes of thrusting to ease the tension and back to business, clinical rather than passionate. He'd ask his secretary in the morning to do a bit of digging, just to see. "I don't…why?"

"Don't look so hurt," Severus said, still deeply amused. Harry scowled at him. "You've been shagging that cow for twenty years. You hardly have the right to oppose my sex life."

"Don't talk about Ginny that way," Harry chided on rote, still caught up by the welling ache within. "She's my wife."

"Then perhaps you should have remained in her bed and kept your heart in her capable hands."

"Is that why I'm here, then?" Harry asked, latching onto anything that would drive the idea of Severus with Esther from his mind. "Trying to win me - "

"I will spare you the humiliation of actually having to finish that statement," Severus said dryly, raising his hands to halt Harry's words. "You are truly as arrogant as your father was." Harry opened his mouth to interrupt, to snap at him for dragging his father into the discussion per usual when matters grew strained between them. Severus kept talking, raising his voice to prevent Harry jumping in, "This is not about you. Rather, our sons."

That gave pause to any venomous comments Harry had at the ready. His anger began to dissipate as he stared at the man. Rarely did Severus refer to James and Albus as their sons, instead as "your sons" or "the boys." Even when it was just the two of them. Maybe he thought it would keep them from slipping up, to always phrase matters that way. Maybe it eased his conscience, to separate himself from them. It always warmed Harry's heart, the few times he acknowledged he was the biological father of his sons.

"James and Albus? What about them?"

"Albus knows."

"Albus knows what?" If Severus wanted to talk about the boys, to call them his, something dire must have happened. Hardly able to wait as Severus considered his next words, he prompted, "Knows what?"

"He is aware that I am his father. His other father," Severus clarified.

"He what?" Harry exclaimed, jumping to his feet. He paced helplessly, thoughts whirring wildly. "You told him? Why?"

"I did not tell him," Severus scoffed. "What sense does it make to tell him but not his brother?"

"Then how does he know?"

"I do not know how," Severus lied. Harry knew it was a lie, knew Severus too well after all of this time. He was too smooth, his gaze too steady. "Only that he does."

"How do you know?"

"Because I am more observant than you," Severus spat. "That is the likely cause of our predicament. While Jim may have taken after you…"

"Does it physically hurt you to call him James?" Harry muttered. For the longest time, Severus refused to call James anything other than 'the boy.' They had been fighting around the time James had been born, which was why Harry decided against Evan James, the name they had originally agreed upon, and instead named him James Sirius out of spite. Severus had never used the boy's given name, opting for the diminutive that no one, not even Severus, liked.

"…athletic and clueless. Albus, however, inherited my intellect," Severus continued smugly. The hint of fatherly pride touched Harry, who had to turn away from him to fight back his smile. "When he remained behind the other day, he made his discovery clear to me."

"What happened?" he asked irritably. If Albus knew, they were in trouble. They never intended anyone to know, not even the boys, loathe as he was to lie to them. It was better this way, for everyone involved. For Albus to know…

"That is between Albus and myself," Severus replied. "Though I do believe you deserve to know. You may discuss how to proceed with your wife. I would suggest, of course, that you inform the other two before they find out on their own. Or before Albus divulges the information himself. He has…kept this information to himself for years, apparently. I am under the impression, however, that it is beginning to weigh on him. Better this comes from you than anyone else. Now, do try to resolve this before they come breaking down my door. As you and Ginevra made it your duty to raise the boys in a lie, it is your responsibility to explain it to them, not mine. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Harry sighed.

* * *

Albus had felt calmer, in some ways, since speaking with Severus. One on one time with his dad today went even further in easing the resentment that had been building these past six months. It felt normal, chatting about the family, Albus choosing what snacks he liked best, offering his opinion on what his dad should cook for the week. It had been a nice day spoiled on the way home when Harry mentioned offhand his plans to visit Severus. He had not responded, only gazing out at the passing scenery.

Why was Harry going to see him alone? Could there be any reason but sex? Would Severus tell Harry what Albus knew? Perhaps there was some investigation Harry needed Severus's advice on. Albus liked to think the middle of the day, family waiting at home, would not be the time Harry would plot a seduction. Or Severus, for that matter.

Even if sex wasn't the primary goal, didn't mean it wouldn't happen. Albus wasn't sure he trusted them together. With a resigned sigh, he watched Harry drive off. He watched until the car was completely out of sight. He was still watching minutes later, clutching the shopping bags, lost in thought. Maybe Albus should have said something. Maybe he should have stopped him, somehow. But his presence, his input, wouldn't change anything in the long run. If they were going to do this, Albus couldn't stop them.

With a shake of his head, Albus finally headed inside, striding straight for the kitchen. The bags fell from his hands, staring in horror at the scene before him. James was seated on the kitchen table, arms and legs wound around Teddy who stood before him. They were making out rather enthusiastically until they heard the groceries hitting the floor. Teddy pulled away from James as though burned. The shock had his hair turning a bright, frizzy yellow.

"Need help?" Teddy stuttered, darting forward to pick up the bags. James was grinning sheepishly as he slid off of the table, straightening the rumpled letters he'd been sitting on.

Teddy was practically a brother to them! He was six years older than James. And, most importantly, he was engaged to their cousin. Albus stared at Teddy as he unloaded the bags and put the food away, as though nothing was wrong. He thought of beautiful Victoire, with her long blond hair and her musical laugh, and how shattered she would be if she knew. They always seemed so happy together. (Just as happy as Harry and Ginny always seemed.) What else could Teddy want but for a beautiful, kind, gifted fiancee? (Harry's preference for a bitter, old man over his beautiful, loving wife.)

Albus hurt for Victoire. He hurt for his mother. Two wonderful women who didn't deserve this. Didn't deserve Teddy kissing James. Didn't deserve Harry driving off to fuck Severus in the middle of the day.

"How could you?" Albus whispered, turning to look at his brother. Smug James, who always got what he wanted. Selfish James who had so much and always wanted more. James frowned at him warningly. Play it cool, little brother, his expression said. "How could you do this to Vic?"

Teddy flushed pink and cleared his throat. He opened his mouth to speak, but James beat him to the punch. "Ted's always been a bit bi-curious. I was just helping him out, that's all."

"He's supposed to be marrying Vic!" Albus shouted, stepping forward to shove James. James shoved him back instinctively. "You're no better than Severus, are you?"

So close, it was so close. The words on the tip of his tongue, and they tasted rotten.

"What's Uncle Severus got to do with this?" James demanded.

"He's been fucking Dad behind Mum's back!" Albus shouted.

James gaped at him. "What?" James laughed and glanced at Teddy, then frowned. Albus looked to Teddy, as well. Teddy who was staring determinedly at his hands as he mindlessly straightened jars on the counter. "Ted?"

"You knew?" Albus asked.

Teddy shrugged. "I…saw them. Once. Years back."

"It's true?" James was shocked.

"You saw them?" Albus prompted.

"Yeah. In…Uncle Harry's office," Teddy explained. "Severus was…" Albus didn't understand how Teddy's face could turn even redder. He gestured helplessly.

"He was what?" Albus demanded, morbidly curious.

"He…he was…" his face was pained as he whispered "sucking him off." He rubbed his hands over his face. "I was, like, twelve, I think. I ran off before they could see me. At least, I don't think they saw me. No one ever said anything."

"Oh my God," James said weakly, plopping gracelessly into a chair.

"Do you know the rest of it, then?" Albus asked, seized by horrible adrenaline, the high of finally setting the truth free.

Teddy's brows furrowed. "The rest?"

"Did you know Severus is our father?"

"No," Teddy breathed. His mouth hung open, gaping incredulously at Albus.

"He is not!" James exclaimed. "What the fuck, Al? Knock it off. Both of you knock it off."

"Severus knocked up Dad, James!" Albus argued. "And you inherited your selfishness from them both."

Albus left them, then, storming off to his bedroom. Awful relief filled him up, even as guilt ate away at his gut. Good riddance, he thought. It was the least they deserved, all of them. None of them cared about commitment, about love, about anyone but themselves. Albus collapsed into his bed, hugging his pillow to his chest, and it was a while before he realized he was crying.


	3. To Act on Every Feeling (is to be a Chil

**Chapter 3: To Act on Every Feeling (is to be a Child)**

James stared into the mirror for a long time. This was not necessarily unusual. So what if he liked to primp and preen before presenting himself to the world? What was unusual was the length of time, though his siblings exaggerated his narcissism and might disagree. Also unusual was the uncertain frown he wore, the furrowing of his brows, the searching as he examined every inch of his body. James was normally quite pleased by his reflection. He resembled his dad a great deal, people told him. Only minor inconsistencies prevailed; the high cheekbones, the hawkish nose, thin yet shapely lips gave him a distinguished look, he thought. Credit for the nose was given to a Weasley ancestor; others may have teased him for it had he not owned it so proudly. Now it was remarked upon with admiration. James stroked the offending nose lightly, trying to convince himself it wasn't the very nose protruding from Severus Snape's face. He could almost do it. His wasn't so markedly hooked. His mouth was less vicious, he thought.

The eyes, though. Those seemed the most damning evidence of all. They had always been attributed to ancestors through the Potter line, with no evidence to show for it. The night-dark irises were all too familiar in the face of his godfather. Or his father, was he?

James shook his head in denial. Albus was lying. Attention-seeking. He was only upset over finding him with Teddy. But why that lie? It didn't make sense. Why would Harry have taken a pregnancy potion to conceive with his hideous paramour? James could hardly believe such an illicit affair even took place, regardless of what Teddy said, what Teddy thought he saw. Denials rang through James's mind even as rage simmered in his belly. He barely caught sight of the tear sliding down his cheek as his fist slammed into the mirror.

It wasn't true. It couldn't be.

* * *

The house was unnaturally quiet when Harry arrived home. Half of the morning's groceries lay forgotten on the counter, but Harry paid them no mind as he crossed into the backyard. The boys were absent, but his girls were there. Lily was flying in circles on her broom. Spotting him, his daughter draped herself backwards, using her knees to clutch the broom and kept herself airborne. Harry forced a laugh and waved to her as she rolled the broom and came back into an upright position, seated properly. Ginny was sitting at small patio table, scratching out a draft for her next Quidditch article.

Long red hair was piled unceremoniously on her head, held up by two golden sticks. The simple, cream colored blouse she wore hung loosely on her slender frame, contrasting with the snugness of her marigold slacks. She was barefoot, legs folded in the chair, her shoes set neatly beneath. Her freckles were a bright, merry presence on her pale face; her brown eyes as warm and sweet as chocolate as they lifted to greet him. Pink lips curled into a pleased smile as he stepped nearer to press a tender kiss to her forehead.

His wife was lovely, truly. Yet he thought on the burning need that left him so dizzy earlier today, and how he had never craved her with such intensity. Anyone would think him mad to have such lust inspired not by beautiful Ginny, but by crude and homely Severus Snape. Even now, restless yearning crawled beneath his skin, too freshly stirred by his old lover.

"We need to talk," he whispered into her hair.

Her smile fell away at his tone, but she called out to their daughter, "Lily, come down now! Your father and I are going inside."

"But Mum!" Lily exclaimed.

"Now, Lily!" Ginny repeated firmly. She always used a gentler tone with Lily than with the boys. Harry wondered if she knew, if his sons ever noticed the slight difference in how their mother treated their sister.

Lily huffed, muttering under her breath as she flew down and stowed her broom away in the shed. Ginny would have fussed the boys for such a tantrum, but she only gave Lily a stern look that quieted the girl into a pout. Harry pinched her chin affectionately. "We'll fly together this weekend, just you and me, pumpkin. How about that?" Lily beamed at him, instantly cheered, bounding into the house ahead of her parents.

Harry and Ginny shared not a word as they climbed the stairs, disappearing into their bedroom. Harry shut the door and cast a silencing charm. He had a feeling this conversation would grow loud, and the children did not need to be made aware of matters just yet.

"Severus asked to see me today," Harry began, resigned. "I went. Nothing happened."

Ginny nodded stiffly, folding her arms protectively across her chest. "What did he want?"

"Albus knows. Who Severus really is," Harry explained.

Her jaw dropped, bright brown eyes wide in horror. For several seconds her mouth moved soundlessly before stuttering out, "What? How does Al know? Did Snape tell him? That bastard! It was his bright idea that we hide this to begin with!" She ranted, shock diminishing into temper. Her nostrils flared as she lifted her chin, arms falling away from her chest to gesture wildly. "He's the one who suggested I fake pregnancy, to pass them off as mine! He was too much of a coward to accept them as his own. He cared more for his peace and quiet than his responsibility!" She fumed, pacing the room, talking loudly over Harry as he attempted to interject. "I have no regrets, Harry, I don't - they are my sons whether they came from my womb or not. But for him to spill the beans like this, without a word to us, to take matters into his own hands - why? Why would he do this? After all of these years, why now?"

Harry frowned as she ranted about Severus, half wanting to defend the man, but mostly agreeing with her. Severus loved their sons, deep down, but it hadn't been enough for him to risk his reputation or his solitude. Weekly visits were more than enough for him, leaving Harry and Ginny the duty of raising them.

Ginny had never wavered, never thought twice about accepting the boys as her own. She had loved them from the start. She was right; she was their mother, regardless of blood. This was one of many reasons he loved her. This was what made Ginny the person he belonged with. She stood by him through his infidelities, willing to make their marriage work no matter how many times he fell into Severus's bed. She might shout and cry, she might stay with her parents from time to time, might throw her wedding ring across the room, but she always came back with determination. She would demand he straighten his act, and he would for a time. She would fight him every step of the way, holding him accountable. Ginny stayed through it all, willing to raise and love children she didn't bear. She was strong enough to comfort him when Severus wounded him with his words and his indifference. She set aside her gloating for a day when the wounds stung less. Ginny was the glue holding their family together. She had always been a better wife than he deserved.

That was why, five years ago, he recommitted himself to her and their marriage. He didn't visit Severus unaccompanied. He didn't let Severus get away with more than a few kisses. Harry attended biweekly therapy sessions, and monthly couple's therapy with Ginny. Their marriage was stronger than it had ever been before. He couldn't take back everything he had done, but he had striven to be a better husband to her, one who might be worthy of her devotion one day.

"Sev didn't tell Al," Harry replied.

"Then who did?" Ginny snorted, rolling her eyes. "Don't tell me you believe him."

"Why would he tell Al and not James?" Harry pointed out. "You know how Al is. He snoops. We always said he'd be an excellent detective." He smiled hopefully, but let it fall away in the face of her furious frown. James liked to argue that Albus would make a better spy, but that comparison to his other father always stung Ginny. Harry knew Ginny was thinking of just that now. "He's known for a while, Severus says. He just…I dunno…told Severus last weekend. He's…he worries if Al told him, he may tell others. It…He thinks it would be better coming from us."

"Of course," Ginny spat bitterly. "Leaving it up to us, as always."

Harry couldn't refute this, so instead he shrugged. "They are ours, Ginny. Yours and mine. It should come from us."

Her posture softened, but only slightly. "No. Harry, no. We can't. Albus can't possibly have any proof. No one would even believe it. I hardly believe it, and this is my life." She shook her head. "They'll think he's lying and we can move on. We can probably convince Al he has the wrong idea. I don't know how he found out, but he can't be sure. We worked too hard on this."

Harry sighed and sank down onto the bed, watching her pace restlessly. "Maybe this is a sign, Gin. We can't keep lying to them forever."

Her eyes flashed. "This was what you and Snape wanted, remember?"

"He's the one who - !"

"Yes, it was his idea, but you agreed with it. You helped him with his plans," Ginny reminded him.

"I never wanted to…" Harry argued, feeling his own temper rise to the surface. He never wanted his life to be this way. Honestly, he wanted Severus to be a real father to James and Albus. Even if they couldn't be together, Severus could at least acknowledge them. Severus made it crystal clear from day one that he had no plans of being a father, but Harry maintained hope that Severus would change his mind, at least be a father in private. Towards the end of his pregnancy, the man made it clear that he was very serious.

"What's all this?" Harry had demanded that day when he entered his living room. He and Ginny had just returned from an event. Upon entering their home, they dropped their glamours. Ginny's maternity dress now hung loosely on her slim body while Harry's robes were now tight around his heavily pregnant form.

It was not the presence of Severus Snape in their living room that caught them off guard. Hannah and Neville Longbottom also waited, sitting on the couch and watching Severus with bemusement. Photo albums, parchment, and books surrounded the man as he knelt before a small chest, efficiently packing away several items.

"Careless proof," Severus barked. "You're due to give birth in less than a month, Potter. You must begin as you mean to go." He pulled a photo from a nearby album and waved it for the couple to see. "How will you explain this to the child?"

Harry frowned as he approached, peering into the chest. Ginny came to his side, placing a hand on his arm as she, too, looked. Stacks of letters to the left, journals in the middle, and photos to the right. Photos of Harry, pregnant. The one Severus dropped on top was of Harry and Ginny. The couple smiled sweetly at one another as Ginny rubbed his growing belly. Ginny stiffened beside him as yet another picture was added to the pile, this one of Harry with Severus. It was a rare image, one likely snapped by sentimental Hannah. In it, the pair stood in Severus's kitchen, Severus cradling Harry in his arms, foreheads pressed together, both laughing. Harry couldn't remember what had been said, but he remembered the joy of that moment. That joy crumbled within him now, vision blurred with unshed tears.

"Oh," Harry said. Ginny rubbed his arm soothingly.

"No one is going to come across them," Ginny said. "How did you even find all of this?"

"It wasn't difficult," Severus retorted, sharply tugging another image free from a nearby album. "What happens when your family visits and peruses your albums, Ginevra? What happens when Evan stumbles upon incriminating evidence tossed negligently into a spare drawer? He would have questions. Questions you are unprepared to answer."

"Evan?" Harry muttered, absently stroking his stomach, feeling the child kick eagerly at the sound of his name. "Questions? What are you on about?"

Severus eyed him. "Are you honestly this thick, or does your wife get off on your stupidity?"

"About as much as Harry gets off on being tormented, I'm sure," Ginny said dryly, taking Harry's hand in her own, standing tall at his side.

"What would you know about getting Harry off, Ginevra?" Severus replied coolly.

"I'm his wife," Ginny growled through clenched teeth.

"Yet, after all of these years you're not pregnant. He, however, is…and with my offspring, for that matter," Severus said smugly.

"What are you talking about?" Harry demanded again, loudly, before either could continue their sniping.

"I am warning you to hide these mementos lest your progeny uncover the truth of his parentage," Severus explained, as to a child.

"Oh," Harry said, at a loss for words. His mind was blank, ice dropping into his gut. Ginny gave his hand a light squeeze, keeping him grounded. "Right. Can't have that."

Up until then, Harry only assumed they would be hiding the truth from the world at large. He never considered keeping the secret from Evan, as well. That was when it became real to him. He sat numbly on the couch to let Hannah perform her examination spells. Ginny sat beside him, always touching a shoulder, or his back, or his leg, reminding him of her support. Harry watched Severus work while Hannah spoke. The baby was healthy, growth on track, and he would be here before they knew it. Severus muttered about their foolishness all the while. "…waited too long to employ the glamours…lucky the potion isn't public yet…no one thought twice about your extra weight…"

In the days that followed, Severus popped in frequently to check their house top to bottom, to be sure he didn't miss a scrap of evidence. Anything remotely incriminating was sealed away in the chest now tucked away in the attic. Harry said not a word to him for the remainder of his pregnancy. When the man would leave, he would rant to Ginny about how Severus never cared for Harry or Evan or for anyone but himself. The git only visited to keep an eye on them, to protect his precious secret. What had he ever seen in the bastard, anyway? Ginny always listened, happily agreeing with every insult aimed towards the man.

When he finally went into labor, Ginny firecalled Hannah and Hannah only. His wife was pleased when he demanded Severus not be alerted. Ginny held his hand as he labored, murmuring encouragement, and it was Ginny who sat by his side, smiling down at the babe in her arms, radiant with a mother's love. "Hi there, Evan."

"James," Harry corrected, resting his head on her shoulder to gaze down at his newborn. The boy already had tufts of wild black hair, and what promised to be Severus's unfortunate nose. "His name is James Sirius Potter." It did not have the ring to it Evan James did, but they were names that mattered to him. Evan had been Severus's choice, named for Harry's mother. For her maiden name. Harry's mother, who Severus had loved, if he was capable of loving at all. Harry shared his mother's eyes, and he wondered if they were all Severus had seen when buried so deeply inside of him, gaze intent on his own, never wavering. Was it Lily Severus thought of when spilling himself inside of her son?

No. Severus wanted no part of Evan's life, so why should he have a say in his name? James for Harry's father, Sirius for his godfather; it made sense to give his son the names of the two most important men in his life. A more vindictive side of Harry cheered, agreeing that they were also the names of the two men that had given Severus hell. More than anything Harry was hurt, wanting no part in the name Severus helped create. For the first time in a long time, Harry believed he would never want anything to do with the bastard ever again.

It was weeks before the Potters announced the arrival of James Sirius. Only when it was reported in the Prophet did Severus learn of his son's birth and his new moniker. He stormed their Godric's Hollow home in a rage. That had been a spectacular fight, ending only when Ginny shouted at them that they were disturbing the baby and should keep it down. For all of the man's anger, Harry could sense the hurt beneath. Severus had missed the birth and had not seen his son once in the week since. Not to mention the gall of Harry to give their child that particular name.

Harry shook his head to dispel the recollection. He had never wanted this lie, but he had allowed it; allowed it to entrap them all, with seemingly no way out. It was easy, this lie. Easier than living with the truth. Everyone accepted the lie. It was the life they'd expected to see for the Potters. A happy, beautiful couple with three happy, beautiful children. The lie held his marriage together. The lie protected his children, for Harry could only imagine what attention would be directed at them if the truth was known. It protected his sons from the painful knowledge that the man who sired them had little interest in them.

Ginny, too, appeared lost in her own thoughts, blinking rapidly as she came back to the present. "You let it come to this, Harry. You could have told him no. You didn't have to let him have his way. You both thought it for the best. Don't deny it. You always wanted a normal life. And being my husband, and those being my sons, was a hell of a lot more 'normal' than anything you could have had with Snape. You also know you could never have the life you want with him, because he would never allow it."

Her voice cracked here and she turned away from him. Harry's breath caught in his throat. He hurt for her, and the pain he caused her. "Ginny, no. You know I love you."

"You love me?" she laughed. "I want to believe you. Most days I do. But I have to wonder if you even know what love is. Because this? This isn't love."

"I do love you!" he argued, reaching out for her, grasping her shoulders and turning her towards him. "I swear, Ginny, I do love you." He did, he really did. It might not be the same love he had for Severus, but it was love. "I don't want to fight with you. I came to tell you what I learned because you are my wife, and you are the mother of my children, and this is a decision for you and me to make. No one else."

"Then why did you come in here spouting Snape's demands, hm?" she said. Her mouth was open, prepared to unleash a new tirade when there was a banging on the door. Before either could move, the door burst open.

"James?" Ginny said.

"I can't believe you," James said, voice trembling. "You lied to us!"

"Oh no," Ginny whispered.

"James," Harry said.

"Shut up!" James shouted. Albus appeared in the doorway, face pale, staring at his brother in horror. By contrast, James's face was red and wet with tears. His glare was all for his dad. "Snape is our dad? Is it true? Is it?"

A gasp from Lily as she entered the scene, gaping from one person to the next. "What?"

Harry turned to Ginny. His wife was hugging herself, watching her children with sympathy. They weren't prepared for this, hadn't had a chance to discuss how to handle this. Now she wouldn't even look at him. Harry sighed heavily and faced his oldest son. "Yes. He is."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" James shouted. "Him? What about Mum? You cheated on her, did you?"

He hesitated only a moment before nodding his head. It hadn't been cheating when James was conceived, but it had eventually come to that. "That's right."

"With Snape of all people?" James demanded. "Mum's pretty! And she's really nice, and…and good at Quidditch, and…she loves you! Why wasn't that enough? Why him? He's an ugly, mean, old git!"

"That's…complicated," Harry explained, glancing guiltily to his wife. Her head was bowed against the pain.

"And you!" James shouted, jabbing his finger towards his mother. "Why did you stay with him? Don't you have any goddamn self-respect?"

"Do not speak to your mother like that!" Harry shouted, grabbing his son's wrist and shoving his arm down. James was still glaring at her.

"You lied to us, too!" he accused. "Why? You didn't have to lie for him! He's a cheating sod who doesn't deserve a damned thing from you! Where's your pride, woman?"

"That is enough!" Harry barked as Ginny barked, "I am your mother and you will speak to me with respect!"

"You are not my mother!" James sobbed. "All I have is a genetic link to two scumbags!"

"That is enough!" Harry roared. "Go to your room until you can calm down!"

"No. I'm out of here," James said, shoving Harry hard. He spun on his heels and shoved past his siblings out of the room. Lily's hands covered her tear-streaked face. Albus stared after his brother's retreating form. Harry moved to follow his oldest son, but Albus moved to stop him.

"Let him go," Albus said. "Let him calm down."

"You told him?" Harry snapped.

Albus frowned, looking guiltily to his feet. "Someone had to."

Harry was prepared to unleash his bubbling emotions on the nearest target, when Ginny spoke. "Leave him alone, Harry. The damage is done. Don't make it worse."

"Daddy, how could you?" Lily sobbed, sprinting past him into her mother's arms. Albus darted from the room before Harry could start in on him again. Harry looked after him, then helplessly back to his wife and daughter.

"Get out," Ginny mouthed to him over Lily's head.

Harry wanted to go to them, to hold them, to make it right. In one afternoon his perfect life had shattered, laying in shards around him, and he had no one to blame but himself.

Well. One other person could share in this. Harry would make sure he did.

* * *

It was bad form to Apparate directly into someone's house, but James was not in his right mind when leaving home. Victoire gasped in surprise to see him, dropping the glass of wine she'd been sipping while cooking dinner. "James!" she fussed, a flick of her wand mending the broken glass. She frowned when she got a good look at his face. "James, what's the matter?"

His cousin had not been the person he sought, but naturally she would be present in the house she shared with Teddy. He couldn't bear to look at her, after what he'd done. Victoire set aside her glass and promptly enveloped James into her arms, making soothing sounds as he sobbed into her neck.

"I didn't know where else to go," James whimpered, clinging to her.

"That's quite alright," Victoire whispered, stroking his hair. "You're always welcome here."

Though it was initially Teddy he sought, it was Victoire's welcome he now wanted. Would she still welcome him if she knew he'd kissed Teddy? If she knew they weren't really cousins? The truth was a dirty thing. No wonder his family worked so hard to cover theirs. This thought only made him sob harder, barely able to stand.

Worse still when a warm, solid body pressed in from behind, strong arms wrapping around James and Victoire both. Worse that his presence stirred James's soul even now. James squeezed his eyes shut, barely daring to breathe. Too late now to turn and run.

"What happened?" Teddy asked quietly.

"He won't say," Victoire whispered.

"I didn't know where else to go," James repeated, relaxing in their comforting embrace. He couldn't bear to rehash everything he had learned. He couldn't admit the shame of what he had said and done this day. All he had known, all that he was, it was all a lie. The very fabric of his reality was torn and frayed beyond recognition. James didn't know who he was anymore, or where to go from here.

However soothing their hugs and their words, neither Teddy nor Victoire could mend him.

* * *

Possessing more tact than his brother, Albus firecalled the Malfoy residence for permission to visit before Flooing in. Draco was calling for his son when Albus stepped into their sitting room, portraying more calmness than he felt. He was on the verge of unraveling, and he was unsure if he wanted to fall apart or hold himself together. Whatever his choice, this was the only safe place left to do so.

Draco frowned at him with concern. "Good afternoon, Albus."

"Sir," Albus said stiffly. Not daring to say more, lest he say too much. The slightest of prompting was all it might take. Even now, he didn't know if he dared share what he knew. Already the consequences of revelation were crashing down upon his family, and it was only within the family for now.

Scorpius scampered downstairs, swiftly entering the room. "Al!" Scorpius called cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"

"Mr. Malfoy, is it alright if I stay the night?" Albus asked, tone carefully blank.

"Of course," Draco agreed, inclining his head. "Stay as long as you need."

"Er…c'mon, then," Scorpius said, leading Albus up to his bedroom. Neither spoke until the door closed them off from the world. Albus breathed, then, and flopped down onto his best friend's bed. It was a large bed for one person, let alone one so lanky.

It worked well for sleepovers, though Draco normally set him up in a guest room. Always he and Scorpius shared the large bed, pulling the hangings closed like at school. This was grander than their dormitory, though. The Malfoys came from old money, and a prestigious name. The room hardly looked lived in, though Albus knew the closet and drawers were full to the brim with knick-knacks and sentimental items. One full drawer contained objects belonging to his late mother.

This house had always been a curiosity to Albus, who even after numerous visits had yet to grow bored of the mansion. Scorpius swore there were Dark objects and family heirlooms hidden about, though neither boy had ever found any. This intrigue held little interest to Albus this day.

"I could use a distraction," Albus said. "I don't want to think right now."

"Well…I might have something for that," Scorpius said with a sheepish grin. He pulled a box from beneath his bed, liquor bottles and potion phials clinking enticingly. Albus perked up. "I was hoarding them until you could visit again, and…well…here you are." The box was set on the mattress as Scorpius climbed up beside him. Unicorn tears, firewhisky, pixie mucus, mead…Albus reached inside, shifting the bottles into some semblance of order.

"Excellent haul, Scorp."

* * *

Ginny held Lily close, mother and daughter laying side by side in bed. Lily had stopped sobbing a time ago, though she still sniffled, and the occasional tear slid down her blotchy face.

"Jay and Al are really Uncle Sev'rus's kids? With Dad?" Lily whispered.

"Yes," Ginny agreed numbly.

"Are…are they in love, do you think?" Lily asked.

Ginny didn't respond for a long moment. She thought of the possessive fire in Snape when he looked at her husband. She thought of her husband's hopeful perk whenever the other man was near. Lust, on one end. On the other? After all of these years, she felt the dull ache of knowledge her heart possessed that her mind refused. Pondering these things, Ginny wiped Lily's tears and pressed a kiss to the girl's head.

"Your father loves us," Ginny assured her. "You, your brothers, and me. Anything beyond that is…complicated." Lily snuggled closer and hiccuped.

"He's…not going to leave, is he?" Lily asked.

Ginny swallowed. "Of course not. He'll never leave us." It was the only thing Ginny knew with certainty. Harry would never leave his family. Not unless she made him.

* * *

Harry stood outside of Severus's door, head pressed against the wood as he banged on it for the third time. Finally he heard approaching footsteps, and straightened in time for the door to creak open. A sheen of sweat on the man's face gleamed in the moonlight, and he stank of potion fumes. Harry swayed, wanting to press himself into that flat chest and breathe him in. He was wrecked, unsure he could cling to his tattered self-control.

"Back so soon?" Severus sneered.

"I need a drink."

Hesitation lasted only a handful of seconds. It had been many years since the last request of its kind. Harry had quit the bottle before he'd quit Severus's bed.

"For a 'please' you may pick your poison," Severus agreed, stepping aside to welcome him in. Harry walked into the middle of the living room, murmuring a quick spell to the light the fireplace. He stared into the orange flames, too aware of the figure hovering behind him.

"Please," Harry whispered, wishing it didn't sound so needy, didn't sound like he wanted anything other than a drink. Severus moved closer, his front brushing Harry's back teasingly. Long fingers settled at his hips, mouth breathing against his ear.

"What do you desire?" Severus purred.

Harry turned his head, breath stuttering as a shiver rolled down his spine. That silken voice had always undone him. Now Severus's lips were not even an inch from his own. Harry could recall the taste of them, more destructive and addicting than firewhisky had ever been. They breathed the same air. Harry was tempted to close the distance. Why not? His marriage was in shambles. His family hated him. If his family was broken, why not surrender to what he'd denied himself these past five years? He touched himself more often than he could count with that darkly delicious voice rumbling in his fantasies. How often had he struggled to banish midnight's stare as he made love to his wife?

Severus's grip tugged him closer and Harry tilted his head away so that Severus instead mouthed along his jaw. Too long since he'd felt the heat and fullness inside of him, a feeling his fingers could never replicate. He could have that. Severus was hard where he ground against him and his own manhood stirred with interest. What did he have to lose?

A lot. He hadn't actually lost anything yet. His family was rightfully upset. That did not mean they were a lost cause. It might take time and effort, but it might be mended yet. It did no good to cross this line if he could still save what he had.

"I shouldn't have come here," Harry whispered, stepping out of Severus's grasp. The man huffed disdainfully.

"Then why did you?"

Harry rubbed a hand over his face, glasses pushing up into his hair as he did so. Severus plucked them off before they could fall.

"They know. They all know."

"Hmm," was all Severus said, summoning the firewhisky and pouring him a glass. Harry didn't look at the man as he accepted the drink.

He didn't need to. He could feel the heat of that gaze, trailing down his spine like a caress. That ravenous consideration, as if Harry were a feast and Severus was determining where to start. Anywhere, he could start anywhere, and Harry could let himself be devoured gladly. Let Severus take what he wanted, use him how he saw fit, because that hunger gnawed in his own gut. Hunger that could be satiated in only one way.

Harry gulped down his firewhisky, the liquor sloshing down his neck in his haste. "Don't look at me like that," he rasped. "We can't."

Cool fingers rubbed the back of his neck, Severus shifting ever closer. Harry sighed, melting back into him even as he grasped his glass in both hands, clinging to some shred of control, to stop himself touching as he pleased. "Don't delude yourself into thinking there's anything left for you there," the man purred.

"Please. Don't," Harry warned, shrugging away from his touch.

Severus scoffed in disgust, slamming the bottle down onto the nearby table. "Why do you insist upon hiding here only to torment us both?" he demanded, pain mingling with his frustration. It was not often Severus hinted at his deeper feelings for Harry, particularly since Harry ended their affair for good. It wasn't right, what Harry did, and he knew it. Everyone was hurt by his actions. Even stone-cold Severus Snape. And it was Severus who always got the raw end of the deal. Harry hated himself for this, watching sadly as Severus stiffly walked away from him.

"Why do you let me?" he asked quietly.

Severus said nothing, did not look his way. Instead he sat in his usual spot, nursing his own glass of firewhisky. Harry poured himself a new glass and stared at the fire as they drank in silence.


	4. When Lips Never Moved

Chapter 4: When Lips Never Moved

Chapter Text

Waking in warm, strong arms, Harry felt more at peace than he had in ages. Lips curled up appreciatively, nuzzling into the bony chest of his pillow. Elegant fingers brushed through his hair, tracing the lightning bolt scar, the backs trailing down his cheek, thumb ghosting across parted lips. Unthinkingly he gave it a soft kiss, tip of his tongue peeking out for a taste. Hearing a sharp intake of breath, he blinked up lazily at the sallow face hovering above his.

Perhaps it was his half-asleep state that attributed to his thoughtless actions. Perhaps it was the look of reverence softening sharp features. Instead of the scalding flames of passion, or the sharp ice of hatred, there was warmth in Severus's unguarded expression. Unable to resist, he pressed a kiss to lips that had been tempting him for so long.

Severus froze in surprise. Harry stroked down the man's spine, lips softly prompting until hesitantly Severus kissed him back. Harry sighed into his mouth as Severus rolled him onto his back, cold hand cupping his neck. Tender caresses turned urgent as Harry draped his arms loosely around his lover, letting Severus take what he wanted from him, sleepily enjoying the ride. The man's erection pressed eagerly into his stomach and Harry could feel his own manhood responding to the feel of it. Severus shifted his hips to press their members together and Harry groaned, clutching at him tightly, bucking up into the contact.

He was wide awake by the time Severus's mouth latched onto his neck, rutting fervently against him. "Oh," Harry gasped as the older wizard sucked at the sensitive area beneath his ear. Pleasure he'd never known with his wife raked through him. They were already here, caught in the tide, and Harry wanted nothing more than to let it carry him away. Why not see it through, what had already begun? Why not strip away the fabric that separated them, to feel the silken heat of his lover bare against him?

"Stop," Harry gasped, pushing halfheartedly at the man. "Please, stop."

Severus stilled on top of him, breath hot against his flesh, hips still flush against his own. Harry squeezed his eyes shut against the urge to squirm against him. Seconds ticked by until Severus finally punched the mattress on either side of him angrily, shoving himself away. Harry rolled onto his side away from him, willing his erection away. He felt the shift of the mattress as Severus stood.

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, pressing a shaky hand to his face. "Why are we in bed together?"

"We were drunk," Severus said irritably. "Even I cannot explain my actions whilst inebriated."

Not a lie, really, but not the full truth. Harry didn't remember much about last night, only drinking and lamenting the distance between them. He had the sneaking suspicion that Severus had intentionally put him in bed with him. But why? They hadn't shagged, that he could tell. Why else? For a cuddle? Harry smiled at the thought, half amused, half touched. Somehow he doubted that was the case.

"I need a shower," he said, sitting up. A cold one, preferably.

Severus nodded. "Breakfast?"

"Yes, please."

Harry took his time showering to settle his nerves. What was a little kissing and rubbing compared to past betrayals? He hadn't been in his right mind, he assured himself, and he'd stopped before things could progress further. It was shameful, how so much of him regretted it.

By the time he made it downstairs, breakfast was in full swing. Severus normally ate a light breakfast, but he had a full spread this morning. Harry generally preferred a larger breakfast, and was pleased to see it. Without a word he set himself to task, helping finish the sausage and brewing the coffee.

Harry recalled the first night they cooked together, wine drunk and as they attempted pasta. His face heated at the memory of licking sauce from Severus's mouth. Of wine spilling to the floor as he was pushed against the counter. He'd grinned when Severus cast a charm to keep the food fresh for them before returning to where Harry sat waiting on the counter top. Calloused fingers brushing his cheek.

"I hear you've won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile again," Severus teased. The Lockhart comparison went unsaid, but was noted.

Harry laughed, poking his ribs. "Do you find me charming?"

Sober eyes bore into his own as Severus whispered, "I find you exquisite."

Heart full to bursting, he'd slipped off of the counter and pushed Severus back, intending to get them to the couch in the living room. Instead, they had drunkenly fallen to the floor. Wasting no more time, Harry pressed his mouth to his lover's, fumbling with his trousers. They used yogurt from the fridge as lube to hastily prepare him before he sank onto his lover's cock.

That was the night they'd conceived Albus.

After, they finished their pasta and ate it on the floor, naked. They left their dirty dishes there to make love a second time before the hearth on a makeshift bed of pillows and blankets. Still loose and wet from earlier, his lover slid into him easily, both sighing into each other's mouths. It was slower, then, holding each other close as Severus rocked leisurely into him. Severus still held him after, the pair drifting into contented sleep.

"Stop daydreaming before you burn something," Severus snapped, breaking Harry's reverie.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Harry muttered. That had not been their only night cooking and fucking, and occasionally they forgot to spare their meals. He colored once he realized what he'd said, but Severus only smirked.

He had to get Severus out of his head, and soon. Images of their past replayed themselves over and over in his head, clinging to the memories of what must never happen again.

Food was levitated to the table once complete, Severus fixing himself a plate of plain toast while Harry fixed a heaping plate for himself. Eggs, sausage, bacon, toast, porridge, and even a side of fruit and yogurt. Harry eyed the yogurt as if it might bite him. Severus watched him with a twitch of his lips.

"Shut it," Harry grumbled, stuffing eggs into his mouth. The smirk only grew and Harry laughed around his eggs.

"I've never known a better use for yogurt," Severus said as he reached for the cup. Harry swallowed as Severus held slipped a spoonful into his mouth. Cold, yogurt slicked finger sliding inside of him. He squirmed.

"Too cold," Harry said distractedly, eying his tongue as it licked the spoon clean. Tongue probing inside of him, Harry's mouth falling open in a soundless cry, his breath and voice stolen as he was tasted and explored. Harry blinked the imagery away, only to be replaced by tongue swiping across the leaking head of his cock, watching his shaft disappear inside of the hot furnace of his lover's mouth. It took the scalding coffee burning down his throat to chase them away for good. Hot, much too hot.

"I never found it to be so." Still smugly smirking.

Harry cleared his throat. "Thanks for this, by the way."

Severus nodded, setting the yogurt aside in favor of his toast. "Happy to oblige." Difficult not to watch the way the bread slipped into his mouth, determinedly holding back ideas of what he would rather put in that mouth. Harry grabbed the yogurt for himself, hoping its coldness would ease the heat within.

"Harry?" called a voice from the next room.

Harry jumped in his chair. "Ginny?" The cold shock of her presence doused the flames far quicker than the yogurt could. He had not heard the Floo, had not expected her to step into this house.

"Sorry to interrupt," Ginny said without looking at either of them. "Harry, my appointment is today, remember? Lily shouldn't be alone right now."

"Right," Harry said. "Sure, I'll head home right away." Ginny usually saw her therapist on Mondays, not Sundays, but he wasn't going to argue with her. "Thanks for the meal, Severus."

"Of course."

Ginny swept out of the room without another word. He heard her Floo to Marietta's office. Harry paused, feeling he should say something more, but Severus was already clearing the table with a wave of his wand and walking away. "Right," Harry muttered to himself.

There he stood, for a minute longer than he should have. Where had Severus walked off to? What would have happened, had Ginny not entered when she did? Could Harry have held himself back? Did he want to hold back? So close he had come this morning, to just letting himself go. Even now he could find Severus, could prompt him into a quickie before heading home.

Lily did not need to be alone in a time like this, Ginny had said, and she was right. His daughter was waiting for him at home. His daughter was at home, upset, because of him. That was the most sobering thought of all.

* * *

Albus woke at nearly noon to the most atrocious migraine of his life. Albus groaned miserably and pulled a pillow over his face. The motion of this caused a churning of his stomach and bile to rise to his throat. Cursing the Albus of the previous night, Albus braced himself against the agony and hurtled himself through the bathroom door. He didn't quite make it to the toilet in time.

"Merlin and Morgana," cursed Scorpius, stumbling into the room. "Here, we'll have to clean it up the Muggle way so Father doesn't ask questions."

'We' was actually Scorpius, who handed Albus a hangover concoction to nurse while Scorpius cleaned up the sick. Albus wondered if it was one of his father's creations, because if it was, he had another item to hate him for. It tasted rank, like rotten eggs stuffed into sweaty socks. Albus coughed, half wanting to vomit again, but the potion coated his insides, holding everything in.

The potion made him worse before it made him better. One solid minute of his skull splitting in two, of his roiling stomach, the violent swaying of the room that had him laying out on the floor. He was sweating by the time the effects wore off, the pain and nausea sweeping out of him suddenly. Albus shot up, now energized, body urging that it could very well run a marathon and more.

"Awful, innit?" Scorpius asked, setting aside filthy towels. "Better than the alternative. You'd be pitiful all day without it."

"Severus?" Albus inquired.

"Think so," agreed Scorpius. He was washing his hands now. Albus could see his very serious face in the mirror as he considered. "Best and worst hangover potion on the market. Who else could it be?"

Albus nodded thoughtfully. Was this another potion Severus "tested" on Harry? Back in the days when Harry was a lush? Vindictive pleasure at the idea of his dad going through that hellish recovery period, tasting the aftertaste of eggs and socks that lingered on Albus's tongue now.

"So," said Scorpius nervously. "He's…your father, right?"

Albus blinked owlishly at Scorpius. Newfound energy spurred his mind to action. Rifling through the memories of last night. Too many drinks, too many potions; no wonder he woke in such a state. What had he said? He hadn't meant to say a word, had he? Albus only wanted to forget, wanted distraction. Distraction, indeed, those bottles and phials. Intoxication pulling forth truths better left hidden.

Everyone would be okay, had Albus left well enough alone. Everyone had been just fine before he opened his big mouth. He could have addressed the situation with James and Teddy without bringing up the family secret. He didn't need to compare the situation; the wrongness of the liaison spoke for itself. All he'd had to do was mention Victoire and how they were hurting her. That was enough, wasn't it?

But what of his mother? What of Ginny, who had lived with her husband's adultery for so long? Didn't she deserve his defense? What could he have done there? Confronted his dad about it? Confronted Severus about it? What would he have said? Would it have mattered?

Besides, didn't they deserve to know, his siblings? This involved them, as well. James, especially. James, who didn't know of his true parentage. Did it matter that he'd been living a lie his whole life? Wasn't it better to have the truth out there? Wasn't it owed to them, the people it affected the most?

"I told you?" Albus asked, lowering his head in shame. He shouldn't feel such guilt, he told himself. This was his secret to share. What did it matter, how it affected his fathers? They were the ones in the wrong. Any backlash either received was no less than they deserved.

"Yeah," Scorpius nodded, still washing his hands, as if he didn't know what else to do. "Dad was always surprised they were friends. Says they loathed each other back in your dad's schooldays. Well, Harry your dad, not Severus your dad. Anyway. Yeah. He'd die of shock if he knew they were…well…that." His rambling died off lamely. "Um…I don't…Well, it's not your fault, what happened. You know? You…You're still Albus. You're still my best friend. If…you know…if you were worried."

Albus hadn't spared it much thought, as he never really intended to tell anyone. If he had, would he have worried? Yes, probably. Hard enough being Harry Potter's son without such a scandal being thrown into the mix. Would anyone view him differently, were the world to know? Mabel? His teachers? His peers? Tears blurred his vision without his realizing. What of his numerous cousins, aunts, and uncles? His grandparents? They weren't really his family, were they? Scorpius was at his side as the tears fell, Albus rubbing them harshly away. They were his family, whether his mum birthed him or not. Weren't they? Would they so easily brush him and James aside if they knew?

"You're still Albus," Scorpius assured him. "Severus being your dad doesn't change that. No one who matters is going to care."

"You don't know that," Albus sniffled.

"Yeah, I do," Scorpius said. "You can stay here as long as you need. I already told Dad you might need to. But…Well. I think you need to talk to your parents." Albus snorted derisively and shook his head. "No, really, you should. You're clever, Al, but you don't know everything. There may be more to the story, things you don't know. And we both know how much you like knowing things, Al." Albus glared at him, the effect ruined by his sniffling. "Besides. They love you. You should let remind you of that."

* * *

Lily was hiding in her room when Harry came home, and he didn't have the heart to disturb her. Not until he knew what to say and do. He'd been so concerned with how James and Albus would take it, he hadn't really considered what it would mean to Lily.

It was hours before she crept downstairs. Harry was fixing lunch for them both. Her eyes and face were still red from crying. Harry clutched the spatula in his hand, wanting to protect her from harm. Sadly the only one harming her was Harry himself. Setting aside his spatula, holding his own anguish back with a breath, he opened his arms to her. Tall, skinny Lily threw herself into them, trembling against him.

"You still love me, right, Daddy?"

"Of course, Lils. I'll always love you," Harry assured her, voice tight. "This…everything that happened is in the past. And…the past is between your mother and I. It has nothing to do with you or your brothers. You know that? I love you all, and so does your mother."

Lily nodded. "You don't…love me less? For being Mum's?"

Harry's eyes burned, but he willed the tears back. "Of course not." What a strange thought to occur to her. Lily was the only child he shared biologically with his wife. Harry and Ginny had always been happy and, even when not, played at it well. If anything, shouldn't he love her more for it? Unless she knew what he felt for Severus, and Harry somehow didn't think that had come up in conversation with her mother. Regardless of who the other parent was of his children, they were still his, and he loved them all. Not one more, not one less, than the others.

"Come on," Harry said gruffly. "Let me finish cooking, and we can eat. Just you and me." He swallowed. "You can ask me anything you want. No more lies." It was a promise he hoped he could keep.

* * *

James stretched luxuriously across a bed that was not his. He watched admiringly as Teddy Lupin crossed the room, naked, to nervously shut the curtains, shutting out the afternoon sunlight.

That morning, James's slumber had been broken when Victoire left for work. His cousin attempted to leave as quietly as possible, but his sleep had been been fitful all night. Just the rustling of her robes and the soft clink of her jewelry brought him back to consciousness.

"I'm sorry, Jamesy," Victoire had whispered, brushing a maternal kiss to his head. "Teddy will make you breakfast, alright? He's calling in at work today to stay with you. I would have done so myself, but deadlines." She shrugged, frowning down at him with concern. Hesitating, as if second guessing her decision, deadlines be damned.

"That's alright," James replied sleepily.

By then he was wide awake, heart racing as he listened to Victoire leave. He counted the minutes, to be sure she would not return for a forgotten purse or lipstick, then bounded off of the couch and into their bedroom. Teddy was still asleep in their bed, snoring loudly. James grinned. Teddy had always been a loud snorer. James was normally a deep sleeper, himself, so he'd always thought it meant they would suit each other well.

So James climbed into bed beside him, not in the area recently vacated by his cousin, but the much smaller area between Teddy and the edge of the bed. "Hm?" Teddy had grunted in his sleep, arm draping across James. James snuggled into Teddy's chest.

"Just don't want to be alone," James confessed, which, while not a lie, was also not the complete truth. He drifted off to sleep, the rumble of snores soothing his uneasy soul.

The pair slept until late morning. True to Victoire's word, Teddy fixed breakfast and served it to James in bed. They sat cross-legged on the mattress, munching on crepes as birds sang outside the window. Teddy was an excellent cook. Harry had taught him. Teddy's crepes were better, James thought viciously.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Teddy asked after cleaning up the dishes.

"I don't want to think at all," James said, bravely reaching out to tug Teddy forward by his belt loops. Teddy smiled uncertainly as he fell into bed with James.

"This isn't -" Teddy said, but James interrupted by kissing him. He didn't put up much of a fight after that. James wasn't sure he had much of a chance. James was relentless in getting what he wanted; and James had wanted Teddy for a very long time.

He had never gone all the way with a bloke before, and Teddy had never been with a bloke at all before him. Their lovemaking was clumsy, but sweet. It had been painful, but not for long. Teddy was very gentle with him. Teddy could never be anything but gentle.

James wasn't sure what he thought would happen, after. Maybe he'd finally tell Teddy that he loved him. Now that Teddy knew what it could be like, surely he would be more amenable. Victoire was a good witch, but she wasn't right for Teddy. She couldn't give Teddy the excitement and diversity James could. Everyday would be a new adventure for them. He knew it. He'd daydreamed of it for years.

This quiet, somber Teddy was not what James had envisioned. He'd imagined intimate laughter, loving caresses, sweet kisses until they were ready to make love again. A bittersweet thorn pierced James's heart as he hugged the pillow against himself. "Come here," James prompted.

"We shouldn't -" Teddy whispered.

"Please," James said loudly, willing away the tears that threatened to form.

Reluctantly, Teddy rejoined him in bed. As he'd wanted, Teddy held him close and stroked his back soothingly. But Teddy was sad and thoughtful, while James…James could hear his brother's accusations in his ear. "You're no better than Severus!" But it wasn't the same. James was in love with Teddy. He and Teddy belonged together. Now that Teddy had his taste of him, he would leave Victoire. They would do things right from here on out.

Crying after his first time had never been a part of his fantasies. He wasn't even sure why he was crying, only that the bundle of emotions he'd been repressing were finally unfurling within him. Teddy rocked him through them all.

Was it any wonder James loved him?


	5. Heart Strings Tear and Tangle

Chapter 5: Heart Strings Tear and Tangle

Chapter Text

They always visited on the same day at the same time: Sundays at noon. Every week, disturbing his peace. Yet Severus was not surprised when noon came and went with no knock at the door, no Floo roaring to life, no crack of Apparition. He fixed lunch in the silence, a simple sandwich. No, Severus was not surprised. But he was disappointed.

It had been a long time since they'd missed a Sunday, but they always sent their apologies and explanations, with promises to see him again as soon as they could. Always he would roll his eyes at the need to reassure him, denying the comfort it brought him. They wanted to see him. They would come again. They would come as soon as they could. And as was his specialty, he denied to himself the pleasure he took from their company.

Visitors were few and far between, other than the Potters. Longbottom dropped by from time to time with ingredients he traded for the occasional potion, as needed. When he had a new invention he would bring it by for Severus to determine its usefulness in potions. Now and then Longbottom would bring his wife, and they would discuss their various projects. Hannah's background in medicine gave her insight her husband lacked into the particulars of Severus's trials. Even rarer he saw the Minister herself; Hermione was a busy woman, but they maintained frequent correspondence. Anyone who didn't know any better might call it friendship. Severus viewed it as two intellectuals with a minimal pool of individuals to share a decent conversation with.

Only the Potters could he count on for frequent socialization. Severus had spent much of his life alone, relying only on himself. It would be Harry bloody Potter that would destroy his routines, his defenses, and his appreciation of solitude. It was wrong for a Sunday to be so still and silent. Severus watched the clock, at the hands ticking by, putting off his work on the off chance they came. Not, of course, for their sake - it would be a terrible hassle to stop his proceedings to greet them.

Sundays were all he had anymore. Harry's regular visits stopped over five years ago when he decided they could no longer continue their entanglement. Now he clung to the snippets he received when the children were not clamoring for his attention, given only the crumbs of Harry's life. Ginevra might have claimed the majority of him, but Severus had at least staked his claim on some piece of Harry. It had not been enough then, and now he felt starved for it. For his touch. For a smile, even. Damn the boy to hell for for the mess he'd made of Severus and his life. On days such as this, Severus loathed him as passionately as he loved him.

Yet, it was not only Harry he missed. It was Jim's mischievous grin, contrasting so sharply against the tenderness he often displayed. The world was a joke to his eldest, but he also loved with his entire heart. Then there was Albus, mind always whirring with possibilities, cleverly noting the most inconsequential of details - just as sneaky as his siblings, but more thoughtful in his every move, every word.

Even Lily, sweet Lily, with all of her father's heart and courage. She was not his flesh and blood, but he could not help but spare a piece of his heart for her radiance. Her nose wrinkled when she smiled, like her namesake; and she laughed as boisterous and free as her father; for all that she shared with her mother, Severus could not hate her. Not anymore.

Ginny's pregnancy with her only child had tormented Severus. At times he was sure he had never hated anyone so venomously as he hated her and her spawn. Never had he hated Harry so much, even in his schooldays. His skin crawled at the thought of the new life they'd created, the one tether to Harry that only Severus had possessed before now.

When they brought the boys to visit, he could see the soft adoration in his lover's expression, the radiant glow of the mother-to-be. Young boys roughhousing. Harry holding Ginevra's hand. Children squalling. Ginny's stomach swollen with new life, with a piece of his Harry. Harry, who was his. Harry, who gazed at her with free affection. Severus had bitten back the words he wanted to spew, commanding them to leave, only because he knew it might stop the visits Harry paid him on his own.

And Severus treasured having Harry all to himself.

Towards the end of Ginny's pregnancy, even that had become unbearable.

Distinctly, Severus remembered the day Harry stepped through his Floo with a nervous smile. "Baby shower," he said by way of explanation. "Fleur's kicked me out. Do you mind company?"

"Is Ronald not available to entertain you?" Severus had snarled.

Harry's shoulders slumped. "I wanted to see you."

Severus grit his teeth against the warmth in his middle. Pathetic, how easily swayed he was. Harry was only here because his wife was distracted. "You should leave."

"Why?" Harry demanded. "What is wrong with you lately? Between Ginny's mood swings and your crankiness, I'm going insane!" Severus snorted and headed towards the kitchen, only Harry ran in front of him before he could. "Did I do something? You've been an arse for months now!"

Severus laughed bitterly. "You don't know why? After all this time?"

Harry's brows scrunched together. "No. I can't read your mind, Sev."

"If you weren't so clueless, perhaps you would have seen the signs," Severus spat, retaliating against the surge of tenderness at the use of the nickname. "If you had more than half a brain in your thick skull you could probably pinpoint the very moment this began. Maybe you would have realized the moment your 'good news' was announced that I was not nearly so glad for the perfect couple as every other imbecile."

Harry's expression turned shocked. "Oh."

"Oh," Severus snorted. "Oh! Your eloquence is as charming as ever. How does one survive as an Auror with such outstanding obliviousness? It should have been clear that I would not celebrate the man I love having a child with someone else!"

Harry blinked owlishly. "You're in love with me?"

"You know that I am," Severus accused, seething as he loomed over the shorter wizard. "You know it, and you wield the knowledge against me every time you come crawling here when she doesn't have the time for you."

"That's not why I come," Harry denied vehemently. "I love you, too, you great git!"

"Don't," Severus growled. "Get out."

"I can't."

"Leave!"

Harry grabbed his arms to stop him turning away, emerald eyes pleading with him, melting his resolve. He had always been a fool for those eyes. Harry's hands moved up to his face and he grabbed the man's shoulders in turn, wishing he could shove him away. This was the time to walk away, clinging to what remained of his heart and his pride. The hero belonged with his lovely wife and his picture-perfect family. He needed to leave Severus well enough alone.

"I love you," the boy swore, the truth of the words reflected in his determined gaze, etched deeply into every syllable he spoke. "I hate hurting you. I hate it so much. I'm hurting you, I'm hurting her…" He swallowed. "I hate myself for it. I do. But I love you too much to stop. I can't stay away. I can't let you go. Please understand. You have to believe me. Don't make me go. Don't push me away. I couldn't bear it."

For all he'd sworn of Harry's ignorance, he had at least seen that much in Severus's face, his posture. Severus swallowed the words he wanted to say, that, if he had his way, Harry would never leave him again. He had confessed more than enough for one day, without confessing to his depraved need of the other wizard. Never before had Severus craved the touch of another man, yet here he was, obsessed with the little fool, spitting image of his worst nemesis. Fate was a cruel mistress.

Rather than humiliate himself further, he kissed Harry deeply, pulling him close. Instead he tempted the truth from his lover's lips, with every touch as he undressed him, only bending him over the back couch once he'd begged for it. Was it guilt or desperation that drove Harry, who had only weeks before sworn they could never resume their affair. The reasons didn't matter. He wasn't a foolish man. Whatever he was offered, he would take and treasure every moment of it. He luxuriated in taking Harry, triumphant in every keen and cry from his lover, and when he at last released himself within Harry, he lamented that his seed would never find purchase in Harry's body. Severus had brewed the contraceptive himself.

It was not another child he wanted, but another claim staked on Harry.

Harry returned to him frequently after that, offering his love while Severus vindictively withheld his own. He had a wife at home to offer him such platitudes. It was that wife who sat heavily pregnant at home caring for two toddlers while Harry moaned wantonly beneath Severus's thorough ministrations. He was sure to send the boy back into her loving arms completely wrecked. Severus clung to this smugness as he lay in his lonely bed.

By the time Lily was born, Severus hated her less. Still he imagined snatching the newborn from her mother's arms to throw her into the nearest wall. He was able to refrain from such.

Love was a gradual thing, born naturally over Sunday visits with her brothers. Severus watched her grow. As he was supposedly godfather to James and Albus, they also named him godfather to Lily. She always offered him smiles and hugs. Little Lily would bring him drawings, sing him songs, and always complimented the simple meals he served. Her heart was as generous and loving as her father's, her defiance and loyalty as fierce as her mother's.

She was difficult to hate, was Lily Luna Potter.

A knock on the door tore Severus from his reflections. His heart lifted, though he knew they rarely used the front door. They had an open invitation to his Floo system. Knowing this, he still rushed to the door, masking his emotions as he cracked it open.

"Good afternoon, Severus," Hannah Longbottom said, tone a touch too cheery even for her. Beside her stood her husband, wearing a sad smile. Hannah lifted a basket draped over her arm. "We brought lunch, if you don't mind the company."

Hannah waited as Severus eyed her husband. This was not the way of the Longbottoms, to drop by for purely social reasons. No, they knew. Severus gritted his teeth. The blasted boy had told them. The question was, were they here due to their own concerns, or due to Harry's?

Pride demanded he slam the door in their faces. Still, there was kindness in those guileless eyes. Regardless of his own nastiness in their formative years, they maintained cordiality at every visit. Despite all he had done to earn the hatred of everyone he knew, they stood here, pitying him.

Loneliness wrestled with his pride as he gave a sharp nod. "Very well."

In the dining room, Hannah unpacked lunch. Sandwiches, though much more satisfying than what he had been making, with sides of crisps and fruit. Severus offered beverages, more politely than he might during the average visit. Silently they settled around to eat.

"Potter sent you, then?" Severus finally asked.

"He said you might be wanting company today," Hannah said cautiously.

"They're rather busy," Neville added, less cautiously. Hannah shot him a look, but Neville had eyes only for Severus. He never spoke his judgments outright, but he never hid them. Neville was much more direct with Harry, he knew, having heard such from his lover. Neville had warned Harry from the start not to follow along with Severus's wishes.

If only Harry had listened.

"Busy mending what 'my' lies broke?" Severus snarled.

Hannah shot her husband a look. Neville had opened his mouth to respond, but closed it when he saw her. Hannah turned a smile to Severus. "You're not the only one to blame. But we're not here to blame anyone." Beneath the table, she kicked her husband's ankle. Severus should not be so amused by that. "You're agitated because you miss them. I understand. I'm sure they'll come around eventually."

Severus took a bite of his sandwich, glancing away to avoid answering. He did miss them, but he would not stoop to admitting so before the Longbottoms.

"They're still your family," Neville sighed.

"They're also Potters," Hannah added. "They won't leave you behind, Severus. Give them time."

Still, Severus said nothing. Slowly he chewed his food while the Longbottoms exchanged wordless communication. When Hannah mentioned one of Neville's crossbreeds might be useful for his experiments, Severus latched onto the conversation. He only made a few snide remarks about Neville's last experiment nearly killing him. Loathe was he to admit how Hannah's reassurance eased him. The least he could do was tone down his snark.

* * *

For a week the boys had been gone, Albus staying with the Malfoys while James hid away in the flat Teddy and Victoire shared. Ginny didn't blame them needing time and space. Still, home was so quiet without them there. Home was tense, as she barely spoke to her husband. Only Lily timidly carried conversations between the two. Harry worked later and later, and Ginny wished she could think he was sneaking off to his lover, if only to fuel the anger that was so overtaken by sorrow. Her beautiful life was crumbling around her.

And her sons? Who knew if they even loved her still, knowing the truth.

Ginny would soon find out, at least regarding one. It was Sunday, and no word had been mentioned of visiting Snape. Ginny was pleased by this. Harry had taken Lily to visit Ron's family. Ginny declined to join them due to the owl she'd received while Harry fixed breakfast.

Mum. Meet me at Malfoy Manor this afternoon? - Al.

The short note, scribbled in Albus's atrocious handwriting, was rolled neatly in her pocket as she arrived by Apparition outside of the front door. Neatly she knocked, standing tall as Draco Malfoy let her in. "Good afternoon," he greeted politely. "This way. You'll have privacy in the drawing room."

Privacy. Ginny wondered just how private the conversation needed to be. Wondered how much Draco Malfoy knew now, about her sham of a marriage. Albus had been here a full week; plenty of time to spread his story. None of the papers had broken the news yet, but that didn't mean no one knew.

Albus was sitting quite still in a sleek gray armchair. His chin was propped up on his knuckles, free hand tracing nonsensical designs in midair. He didn't look up as the adults entered the room, but nodded when Draco informed them he would be in his office, should they need anything.

"Thank you," Ginny said belatedly, just before the door shut. Perhaps it was bad manners, but as soon as it closed she cast a Silencing Charm on the room.

"They wouldn't listen in," Albus commented, green eyes finally flicking up to her.

"Better to be safe," Ginny stated. "Unless they already know?"

Albus shrugged. "I told Scorp. He won't tell anyone, though. I trust him."

Her secret in the hands of a sixteen year old boy. Ginny breathed deeply to remain calm and steady. There was no helping it now. Scorpius Malfoy knew. They would deal with it. Whatever happened now they would deal with.

Unsure of herself, Ginny drew deeper into the room and settled herself on the chaise nearest her son. Hands folded in her lap as she looked around the expansive space. For the last week she'd wanted nothing more than to see her son again, but now that she was here she didn't know how to behave. Silly. She was still his mother, whatever he thought. This reminder gave her strength as she turned to face him. He was watching her, those green orbs so reminiscent of Harry, but it was the probing nature of him that spoke of his other father.

"Why did you stay?" Albus asked.

"Well," Ginny breathed, crossing her legs and sitting forward. She had not been prepared to have this conversation with anyone. She should have expected this. Of course Albus would want to know every nitty gritty detail, however painful for either of them. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Your father got pregnant with James when we were separated. I didn't imagine he would…cheat…when we reconciled. I agreed to be a mother to James because I loved your father; it didn't matter that he wasn't mine. I wanted a family, anyway. What did it matter how motherhood came to me?"

She didn't mention the screaming and crying when Harry's pregnancy was confirmed. The letter from Severus Snape, scolding Harry for ingesting an experimental potion by accident. Swearing the Longbottoms to secrecy as they used Hannah's mediwizardry skills to monitor the pregnancy. It had hurt, deeply. It had been confusing. Harry had never shown an inclination towards men before, let alone such an old and ugly bat. One who had made their lives hell for years. Ginny had been willing to move on, for the sake of her marriage, for the sake of the innocent child Snape scorned.

"James was about a year old when Harry became pregnant with you," Ginny continued, wishing away the trembling of her voice, wishing her nerves weren't so frayed. "A drunken mistake, your father said, and he swore it would never happen again. I took James and stayed with my parents for a week." Her parents, together for four decades by that time, urged her to fight for her marriage. They didn't know the truth. Ginny had been too ashamed to tell them.

Besides, she loved Harry. She loved her little family. When he made his promises, she chose to believe him. "I gave him a second chance. I agreed to fake another pregnancy, to pass you off as mine. I…suspected their affair resumed while Harry was pregnant, but…I never had proof." Harry spent so much time with Severus, but he was the child's father. It was natural to be drawn to him, wasn't it?

In the end, it was Ginny he always came back to.

"Maybe I…turned a blind eye," Ginny admitted. "I didn't want to believe it, so I refused to. What could I do? I was a mother and a wife. I loved Harry. I loved you and your brother. I wasn't going to risk the life we worked so hard for. I wasn't going to lose everything I had because of Severus Snape." She bit her tongue. That was Albus's father, she was naming with such vitriol. "So we carried on. After Lily was born, though, I…It became too obvious to ignore."

Harry had come home late one night. As she curled up next to him, she inhaled the unmistakable scent of potion fumes, herbs, and that bitter musk Severus sprayed to cover the rest. Harry drifted right to sleep while Ginny lay beside him, head swimming with visions of the pair entwined, of all the ways that scent could be so thick on her husband. She hated him at that moment. She could have killed him.

"We fought. I took you and your siblings and left time and again, but we always came back. You always asked for your dad. And I missed him, too." Ginny couldn't bear to look at him anymore. She was embarrassed. How pathetic to love a man so much, to be so willing to put up with so much.

"And you were embarrassed to leave," Albus guessed shrewdly. He tapped his lip thoughtfully. "Didn't want to admit to failure. Didn't want to admit your husband was cheating on you with a man, let alone which man."

"I stayed because I love you," Ginny snapped. Albus was too smart for his own good. However right he was, those were not her primary reasons. The only reasons that mattered were her children.

Albus shrugged. His eyes flicked from side to side, chewing his lower lip as he thought. Ginny waited uneasily. She felt exposed. Her younger son had always seen so much more than anyone wanted. It was no wonder he'd found them out.

"Have you ever seen them?" Albus asked curiously.

Ginny blanched as she shook her head. Thankfully she had never actually seen anything. Touches that lingered too long, gazes that spoke too much, but nothing graphic. The worst she'd been witness to was hearing Harry groan the man's name in the shower. These past five, almost six years, she couldn't begrudge him that, however much it hurt. He was at last faithful to her. She could tell. Harry didn't dare to visit Snape alone, ever. At least, not until recently. Still, Ginny could see the strain of it in her husband and was satisfied.

"Teddy saw them," Albus commented. "When he was twelve."

"He saw?" Ginny demanded furiously. Teddy had always been like a son to them. Andromeda had allowed free access to their godson his whole life. The maternal beast within her roared at the idea of an innocent child walking in on two careless adults. "No," she breathed, the horror of what it meant sinking deeper still. Teddy knew? If not the whole of it, then part of it. But that was over a decade ago.

"Yes, Severus was -"

"I don't need to know the details!" Ginny nearly asked for the details, to know how precisely her godson had stumbled upon them, but it was history and had no bearing on the here and now.

Albus grimaced apologetically.

"He never said anything?" Ginny asked, though she already knew.

"No," Albus said. "I guess he wanted to forget about it. Maybe he wanted to protect you."

"Maybe," Ginny agreed. Non-confrontational Teddy would want no part in that. His peace-loving heart wouldn't want to disrupt the seemingly happy family. It was easy for him to push aside any unpleasantness No, Teddy wouldn't breathe a word. It hurt her heart to consider how well his sweet nature benefited them.

"Will you and Dad stay together, even now?" Albus asked.

"Of course," Ginny replied. It would take time for them to heal, but she had not come this far to give up now. She and Harry had weathered worse storms.

Albus frowned. "You shouldn't." Ginny's surprised look deepened his frown. "Mum, you should have dumped him ages ago! You can do better!"

"I love him," Ginny said. At Albus's incredulous look, Ginny continued. "You don't understand. We all struggled, after the war. It affected us all differently. If your father formed this…unhealthy attachment to Snape…" Veering off into dangerous territory again; whatever Ginny felt towards Snape, she would not disparage him to his children. "We've dealt with it, Albus. Your father and I care deeply about this family and the life we've built. We've both put in the effort to make it work. And it's finally working, Albus! It's ended." She sighed. "You've only just learned it."

"I found out when I was nine," Albus corrected. "I found letters and photos in Severus's attic. And then ours."

"Right," Ginny said, thrown off course momentarily. The upheaval was so recent, she'd forgotten that detail. "Still, you've never known the whole story. You don't understand. It's all fresh for you and your siblings. But it's over now. They're over."

Albus chewed the inside of his cheeks as he considered something. Ginny wanted to fuss him to stop, before he hurt himself, but held back. "It's not over," Albus said.

Ice dropped into Ginny's stomach. She could have sworn Harry was truthful, confident she would know if the affair resumed.

"Not that," Albus quickly amended. "Only…they're in love, Mum. You can see that. It's obvious."

"Your father might care for Snape, but Snape doesn't know what love is," Ginny denied. So much for holding back regarding Snape. Albus only looked at her sympathetically.

"Even if that's so," Albus said. "As long as there are feelings there, it will never be over."

"I am not discussing this with you, Al," Ginny stated stiffly.

Albus looked like he wanted to argue, but a firm look from his mother cowed him and he slumped down in his seat.

"I love you, Albus," Ginny went on gently. "I am your mother. I always have been, and I always will be, whatever you think about it."

"I know," Albus said sadly, quivering of his jaw betraying his emotions. "I love you, too."

Ginny sighed. "You can stay here a few more days, if you need, but you need to come home soon. You can't hide forever. Or take advantage of the Malfoys's hospitality."

Albus nodded. "Wednesday?"

"That's fine. Be home in time for dinner," Ginny said as she stood. Albus stood, as well, and awkwardly approached her. The uncertainty of him broke her heart and Ginny held back tears as she opened her arms to him. Albus shuffled into them, hugging her tightly as he hadn't since he was a boy.

"Bye, Mum," Albus said. "And…thanks."

As she withdrew her Silencing Charm and left the room, her son's words whispered repeatedly in her ear. "As long as there are feelings there, it will never be over."

It was those words that drew Ginny back to every Sunday visit with Severus while the children were at school. Easier to ignore what existed between them when the children were around. Easier to stomach the visits to begin with when the children were an excuse. Harry liked to say they visited to keep the habit, but Ginny knew better. Difficult to begrudge him weekly visits when he otherwise stayed clear of the man, these past few years.

More often than not the two men bickered. "Like an old married couple," some might say. The phrasing made her queasy, though it occurred to her occasionally. It wasn't all bad, though. They spoke of the children at length, a topic Ginny was happy to offer input on. It put Severus on edge, she knew, and she liked that. They spoke of work. Proper friendly chit chat. At times the men played chess or cards while Ginny flipped through a magazine. Other times they would walk through the back garden while Ginny watched from the kitchen window.

Most bizarrely, she and Severus would maintain civility while Harry fixed them lunch. Work, the news, idle words to fill the air. Ginny bore it easier these last years, because she knew Harry was not sharing Severus's bed. She could read it on them both. Could cut the tension with a knife. Oh, they wanted each other, but Harry held himself back. Harry had chosen her, at last, and Severus loathed her for it. Ginny basked in it. His forced civility was icing on the cake. Behaving himself, for Harry's sake.

Ginny liked to forget that she was doing the same.

Now she looked back on those Sundays dizzily. The ties between the men were invisible, but a heavy presence in any room they shared. Ginny's attendance was the only barrier keeping them apart. She let herself be dragged to that man's house every week to babysit her husband. The two men could not be trusted alone with one another.

Could not be trusted alone because the war had traumatized her husband into loving a tormented criminal. Could not be trusted alone because Severus's obsession for Lily Evans had morphed itself into lust for her son. Sick of them both to surrender to their confused desires.

Would this be the rest of her life? Carrying on this charade, deigning to play nice with the man who still held her husband on a leash? The man who had touched her husband, kissed and licked her husband, put his greasy prick inside of her husband. There she sat, dutiful wife, thinking she had the upper hand when all she really had was a part in their twisted game. Would she be eighty, ninety, a hundred years old watching as they tortured each other with their proximity? Would she sit on that couch and smile smugly because she got to bring Harry home with her?

"As long as there are feelings there, it will never be over."

"Mrs. Potter?"

Ginny's hand was on the doorknob leading out of the manor. She didn't remember the walk here. Turning, she found Draco Malfoy standing tall and dignified, a curious twitch in his cheek.

"Mr. Malfoy," she said, bemused.

Draco cleared his throat. "Our sons are close. You may call me Draco."

"Ginny, then."

Draco nodded. "I know Albus is having a difficult time. I don't know what transpired. I won't pry. I did, however, want you to know that Albus is always welcome here." A clear, pointed cough here. "You and your family would be welcome, as well, should you have need of it."

"Oh," Ginny said. "That is…kind of you, Malfoy. Draco, that is."

Again, the man nodded, turning on his heel. Ginny watched him head for a nearby room, thoughts buzzing around her skull. Thinking clearly was a task she struggled with, but managed to call out. "Draco!" He paused. "Thank you, for hosting Albus all this time. He'll be expected back home Wednesday night for dinner, if you don't mind holding him accountable? Just in case?"

"Certainly," Draco agreed.

Albus's words continued to bounce around her head as she stepped outside. Rather than Disapparate, she walked down the sidewalk, hoping the fresh air and noisy street would clear her mind.

* * *

"Is everything alright, Harry?" Ron asked.

They were in the kitchen. Harry was pouring himself a drink, surprised to find Ron had followed him.

Out in the living room, Lily and Hugo were playing Exploding Snap while Hermione and Rose discussed a news article about St. Mungo's. Harry hadn't paid much mind to the company around him, but he had heard the name Esther Unger mentioned. Severus had not been mentioned alongside her. It didn't matter what Esther had to say about St. Mungo's affairs, not to Harry who had so much else to worry about.

All during this visit, he'd been watching Lily. Every time she leaned close to whisper something to Hugo, he wondered if his daughter was spilling the beans. He hadn't had the heart to ask any of his children to lie for him. Bad enough he, Ginny, and Severus had lied to them.

"Yeah. Sorry, mate. Just been busy," Harry laughed.

"Right," Ron said, not believing a word. That was the trouble with offering your go-to excuse to your brother-in-law slash coworker. Ron knew better than anyone how busy Harry was, professionally and personally. "You know Hermione and I are here, whatever you need." Hesitation. "And if you and Gin are struggling again…even if you won't tell me, talk to 'Mione. She's good for that."

"I know," Harry said guiltily. They were his family, once closest confidants, and even they didn't know his darkest secrets. They wouldn't understand, even without the relation to his wife. In ways, it had distanced him from his dearest friends, and bound him all the tighter to Ginny. Whatever happened between them, they were all each other had.

Hermione and Ron watched him with disappointment as he and Lily left. Hermione hugged him close and reminded him that her office was always available to him. Rose looked between the adults suspiciously, too quick for her own good. Hugo noticed nothing, waving cheerily from the window as they headed to the car.

"Ice cream, Lils?" Harry pumped as much brightness into his voice as he could muster. It had been too long since they'd had proper father-daughter time.

Lily managed a small smile. "I didn't say anything, Daddy."

Harry sighed. "Thank you."

Lily shrugged. "It's no one else's business." Bright brown eyes peered uncertainly at him. "Uncle Ron would kill you."

"Yep."

"But…couldn't you talk to Aunt Hermione?" Lily asked. "You…you don't talk to anyone?"

"I talk to your mother, as needed," Harry said uncomfortably, backing out of the driveway. Who else could he talk to? Neville knew, but it was an embarrassing subject. Bad enough he knew without Harry confiding in him any further than that. Besides, Neville had made his thoughts on Harry's activities very clear.

"That's…sad," Lily said. "Mum talks to her therapist, doesn't she? Does her therapist know?"

"Some."

Lily said nothing for a while. Harry drove in silence, still deciding whether to find a nearby ice cream parlor or not. Only when he reached out to turn on the radio did she speak again.

"Do you love Uncle Severus?"

Harry rubbed his temple. "That's not…We don't need to get into that."

"I want to know," Lily said irritably. "I deserve to know, don't I?" Harry opened his mouth to argue when Lily barked out, "Do you love him, Daddy? Do you?"

The options were weighed in his mind as he made a left turn. They definitely needed ice cream. And he needed a drink. This was not a conversation he needed to have with his daughter, of all people. There were things the children deserved to know, sure, but was this one of them? They were too young, and this was too complicated. How could he explain what he felt for Severus, when he barely grasped it himself? How could he describe the love he had for Severus versus the love he had for Ginny, both so disparate, yet both so powerful. Both his lover and wife had their ties in him, embedded so deeply, he couldn't imagine life without either of them.

That was part of the problem.

"Yes," he whispered, before he fully decided to speak.

Lily nodded as she looked fixedly out of the window. Harry hoped she wasn't crying. He couldn't take making his little girl cry.

"Why?" she asked after a few minutes, voice shaky.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Love doesn't always make sense."

"Yeah," Lily agreed. "I'm so angry with him, and I'm so angry with you. But I still love you, both of you."

Harry laughed with relief. "Be as angry as you need to be, Lily. I'm pretty mad at me, too."

"I don't want to be angry," Lily continued as Harry pulled up in front of the shop. "I just want to be happy again. I want to hug you and laugh with you. I want to visit Uncle Severus. That's the stupid part. I should hate you both."

Strange to be so glad over her inclusion of Severus. Surprising that she didn't hate the man. Harry knew the man cared for his daughter. The child that was not his, and he managed to love her anyway. It made Harry love him even more. That Lily still cared for her godfather, as well, meant more to him than he could say.

He didn't like to linger on the 'why'.

"It might be easier if you did," Harry agreed. "But I'm glad that you don't."

"Well, I'm still mad at you," Lily grumbled, but there was no heat to the words. She sat tall in her seat, resignation deep in her lovely features. She never looked more like her mother than in that moment, bearing his betrayal with sorrowful strength. All of his wife's fighting spirit faltered before him. Harry hated himself for being the one thing Ginny couldn't fight against, but equally grateful that it kept her with him. He was a selfish man, but he had learned that a long time ago. Now his daughter was doomed to her mother's fate, loving him whether he deserved it or not. One more reason to hate himself, then. "I thought better of you, Daddy."

"I know," Harry agreed, swallowing the lump in his throat. "So did I, once."

Lily frowned into her lap, eventually shooting a dirty glare to the shop, as if it were responsible for all of her woes. "I don't think I want ice cream, Daddy."

"Right. Silly of me."

"Can we just drive around for a while?"

"Sure, Lils."

No more words were said. Lily fiddled with the radio, staring out of the window once her selection was made. The loud, intense music worked its healing magic as Harry drove aimlessly.

* * *

All day, Victoire periodically checked the Potter household, reporting back when it was finally empty. Moving quickly, James Apparated home. With Victoire's help, they spelled all of his belongings into a trunk, shrinking them as they went. Victoire's spells were neat, folding prim and proper, efficiently settling themselves at the bottom of the trunk. James's spells shot shoes and knick-knacks diving haphazardly into the trunk at times clashing with Victoire's work. James could have sworn he heard his hairbrush gasp with offense when his gobstone set hurtled rudely into it.

"You must be firm," Victoire suggested, giving a little wiggling jab at a set of books. They obediently rose and waited patiently for his boots to fly by.

"I just want to be gone," James said.

His week with Teddy and Victoire had not been much better than remaining under his parents' roof. Teddy was working more hours, rarely home alone with James. James had the feeling it was intentional. For days he hoped Teddy only needed time to sort his feelings. Now he was sure Teddy was hiding from them. It killed him to watch Victoire rush into his arms when he came home, when they disappeared into their bedroom at night.

Victoire's maternal gestures were unbearable. She fixed him food. She gave him hugs. She fussed him to clean up after himself, to perfect his spells, to settle on a team once and for all. Victoire was loving, more loving than he deserved. James couldn't stand how perfect she was.

"They are your family," Victoire said. "You should leave them a note, if you won't speak to them."

"No. They'll get the message clear enough," James argued.

Yesterday he'd seen an ad for a flat not far from Teddy and Victoire's. Being Harry Potter's son came in handy now and then. The process had gone very quickly once that name was dropped. He'd signed the lease this morning. His new home was waiting for him. At last, he'd have peace. Far from the people who did nothing but break his heart.

"James, is that you?"

"Damn it," James cursed as Ginny walked into his room. Her bright face dimmed when she took in his empty room and trunk Victoire was closing.

"Aunt Ginny," Victoire said warmly, stepping forward to give her a hug. James darted for his trunk and laid his hand on it, catching only a glimpse of his mother's agonized face as he Disapparated.


	6. Love for all Manner of Brutes

Chapter 6: Love for All Manner of Brutes

Chapter Text

Regardless of what the Longbottoms knew of her life, Ginny rarely confided in them. After her Monday therapy session, however, Ginny was thoroughly wrung out. She could take no comfort in the presence of her husband anymore. Who else did she have to turn to, but the only other people who knew? Even Marietta, her stalwart counselor, was not entrusted with every detail. Ginny took comfort in this as the woman's parting words echoed in her ears.

"Remember, Ginny, you don't have to stay. Consider whether you might benefit from time on your own."

It was not the first time Marietta had suggested this, nor would it be the last, Ginny was sure. Ginny fumed over tea while Hannah listened patiently. "I spend most of the hour crying over James leaving, and she turns it back around to me abandoning my family again!"

"It wouldn't be abandoning your family," Hannah said gently. "It wouldn't even be abandoning your marriage, just yet. A break is temporary."

"It's giving up," Ginny argued stubbornly.

"It's not," Hannah continued, still calm. Ginny wanted to shatter that peace. It wasn't fair that anyone could be so untroubled. "Marietta was right. You'll care for others better when you care for yourself."

"I'm fine. Everything is fine."

"James is gone," Hannah reminded her. Ginny glowered and set her cup down forcefully. "And face it, Ginny, whatever you think you've accomplished, you and Harry have never had a healthy marriage." Ginny sputtered, immediately arguing, but Hannah continued in a neutral tone until Ginny gave up to listen. "You were always fighting. You never dealt with any of your issues as a couple. You stayed together, whatever happened, which is admirable. But you never dealt with any of it. When Harry told you he was pregnant, you stayed - it didn't matter that it wasn't the result of cheating, the first time. You agreed to be mother his child without really taking the time to consider it. You never really discussed his relationship with Severus.

"And when he did cheat, you stayed. You stayed time and again. And I'd fault you less if you stayed because of improvement; if you stayed because the two of you worked through whatever was wrong; if you stayed because you could at least be honest with yourselves. You stayed because you refuse to give Harry up. You stayed because you are hardheaded. You never stayed for the right reasons.

"And now, even though Harry's finally stopped cheating, it's still not enough. You never gave yourselves time to heal. Individually, or together. Too much time has passed, too much has happened." Hannah reached across the table to grasp Ginny's hand. Ginny felt the fight fall away from her at the touch. "You are a good wife, Ginny. And a good mother. Taking some time apart will not change that."

Unsure of what to say, Ginny took another sip of her tea and a bite of her biscuit. A hollow ringing sounded in her ears.

"It's your life," Hannah sighed. "I can't force your hand, and neither can Marietta. But I care about you, Ginny. I want you to do what's best for you. At the end of the day, what's best for you is what's best for your family."

* * *

Once, Snape told her daughter, "Consider what is in your best interest, Lily."

"That's selfish."

"No, girl. That is self-respect."

"But Jamesy and Alby…"

"Are looking after their own interests. Who is looking after yours?"

"You do, Uncle Sev'rus."

The pair spoke quietly from the kitchen. Lily sat on the counter, little legs swinging as Snape arranged a plate of biscuits for his guests. Harry leaned against the arm of the couch, smiling fondly as he watched them. Ginny wanted to snatch her daughter from the counter and flee with her. She wanted to grab her husband by the hair and drag him away. She wanted to gather her family close and break whatever damned spell Severus Snape had over them.

It was a long moment before Severus responded, voice strained. "I certainly do my best, Lily."

Ginny calmly sipped her tea as her inner voice screamed and raged.

* * *

"Taking everyone else out of the equation…no husband, no children. No mom or dad. No brothers. No friends. No fan club. What is the best course of action for you?" Marietta once asked.

Ginny sat stiffly in her seat, glaring disdainfully at her counselor. "Without my family, my life would be different. I'd have a very different set of problems, wouldn't I?"

Marietta sighed. "What are you doing here if you refuse to work with me?"

"I'm looking for a solution that is not 'leave your family'!"

"The solution you want is to bend Harry - sorry 'your husband' - into obedience by sheer force of will," Marietta replied, tone belying none of her agitation. "You don't want to drug him or curse him or use any magical means to force his hand. You don't want to leave. You want to stomp your foot and command his fidelity and have it be so. You've been stomping for years, Ginny. When are you going to realize it isn't working?"

Ginny fumed in silence. The scratch of Marietta's quill against parchment scratched against her raw nerves. Every week for ten years. First recovering from the war to marital woes. Ginny couldn't even reveal the worst of it to Marietta, regardless of any patient confidentiality promises. Even if she trusted Marietta to never breathe a word, how would she even explain her husband's pregnancy or their decision to lie to the world?

"Could I learn to live with it?" she eventually whispered, blinking tears from her eyes. "Could I learn to be okay with him screwing that man."

The 'no' was loud in Marietta's tight expression, but the words she spoke were, "Only you can answer that. We can develop a plan now…"

Ginny nodded as Marietta explained her options, shushing the voice inside ranting how she could never be okay with any of this. How could she just accept her husband crawling into Snape's bed like some whore? How could she gladly welcome him back into her arms, knowing where he had been, what he had been doing? How could she give him affection when he was filthy? How could she smile and laugh as if it were okay?

The very idea of it was a blow to her pride. Surprising to her she still had any pride left.

* * *

"What did you wish for, Mum?" Albus asked every year on her birthday.

Candles blown out on the tall, wobbly cake her mother made, Ginny offered her public grin to her surrounding family. Only Harry saw it for what it was. The look he gave her was concerned, but he smiled as well and offered her hand a squeeze.

Every year she wished for the same thing. Foolish at her age to still wish for anything so badly. Every year she closed her eyes, willing with all of her might that her husband could turn away from Snape. More than that, stop desiring him altogether. Stop loving him. Wishing with her whole heart that he would love her and only her, the way he was supposed to.

"It's a secret!" she always responded. Always pumping enough teasing and high spirits in her tone to disguise any bitter emotions threatening to drag her down. Difficult to be upbeat and happy when she reminded herself of bitter truths.

At least Harry always stayed with her for her birthday. They never invited Snape. And if her birthday fell on a Sunday, they didn't even visit. For her birthday, Harry was all hers. It was her he held close, her hair he kissed, her hand he held. This day, of all days, she didn't worry about where he was or what he was doing.

Her upcoming birthday would make six years since her wish came true, at least in part. Ginny was glad to take what she could get.

* * *

"Do you have any regrets, Mrs. Potter?" a reporter once asked.

Regarding her career, specifically, but it was not Quidditch Ginny's mind jumped to. She thought instead of every point in life she could have turned back. Ending her marriage when she first learned Harry had cheated. Ending her marriage when she first learned Harry was pregnant. Ending her marriage when they first separated, rather than reconciling. Ending their volatile relationship before they ever made it to the altar.

If only she had never met Harry Potter at all.

But she thought of Lily, who would never have been born. Thought of her daughter's wild, carefree spirit as she danced around the house. Thought of her sharp focus when arguing with her brothers or sneaking out onto a broom. Lily's big, white smile. Lily always stealing the first swipe of icing on any cake.

She thought of Albus, who she never would have met. Thought of her son's cool, collected facade beneath which a mad genius sparked, the eerie glint of it in his green eyes. Thought of his secretive smiles when he thought no one was looking. Albus's soft voice, speaking only with purpose, and always with the undercurrents of hidden knowledge. Albus sneaking around the house, always popping up where you least expected.

She thought of James, whose mother she might never have been. Thought of his impish smirk, a thousand mischievous thoughts flitting behind black eyes. Thought of his big, warm hugs that healed any wound. Every shift of James's body confident and fluid, contagious energy to those around him. James tickling his siblings to make them laugh whenever they were sad.

She thought of Harry, who might not have the chance to break her heart every day. Thought of the steady strength he brought to every room he entered. Thought of the warm, muscled arms encircling her every night. Meeting Harry's gaze in a crowded room, matching his firm smile, moving together as one well-oiled machine. Harry's tender kisses in the sunlight, her soul soaring with his through clear blue skies. Harry's deep, loving kisses in the dark, clinging to him as if they were the only two people left on earth.

She thought of Harry giving those intimate kisses to Snape and knew it to be a lie. Instead she saw biting, vicious kisses. Imagined them tearing at each other like beasts. Harry would never give Snape what he gave her. And Ginny gave Harry what Snape was incapable of. What she shared with her husband was a broken mass, but it was solid and they alone understood the mechanics. It was her and Harry against the world, even when they were against each other.

"No, no regrets," Ginny had replied with her public smile.

* * *

"How am I supposed to know what's best for me?" Ginny whispered, the shake of her head dispersing the unwanted thoughts.

"You think about it," Hannah suggested. Ginny snorted to herself. Precisely what she did not want to do would of course be Hannah's suggestion. "Long and hard. Be by yourself and think about what you want for yourself. Think whether you're getting everything you need. Think about whether you want your life to continue the way it is."

Ginny laughed. She wasn't sure why. Only when that laughter became sobs did Hannah move over to hug her. It was easy to know what she wanted, when what she wanted was what Hannah had. A content, easy life. A loving husband whose eyes never strayed. She wanted to be happy.

And however much she loved Harry, however much she wanted Harry, she was not happy.

* * *

Work dragged by on Monday, in part due to the fact that Harry had heavily considered calling in that day. What would he have done without work? Mope around the house over his son leaving home? More likely he'd have made matters worse by banging down the door of James's new flat. Banging down the door of Malfoy Manor, demanding Albus come home, whatever his mother had said. At worst he'd hunt down Severus; the idea of that set him firmly off to work an hour early, throwing himself into mindless paperwork.

That was the worst part of being Head Auror - the endless paperwork. He saw much more field work before the promotion. Harry would rather be stalking the streets for suspects than reviewing and approving requests for raids and arrests. The whispers of "new Death Eaters", using the old name of Knights of Walpurgis, might be more interesting if he could do more than read about it. If he wasn't the one who had to make the decision that there was not enough evidence to act upon, yet. Instead he would send more Aurors out to gather more intel, and sift through more paperwork until they could make a move.

What Harry needed was a move to make. Something more hands on than this. A little action might distract him for a time, but sitting behind his desk, staring at case reports, his mind wandered easily from Dark wizards to his son. To James.

His lies had driven James away. His son was hurting. Nothing Harry could do would fix that. It was his fault James was gone. His fault Ginny was upset. It all came back to him, his own actions, the foundation of lies his entire life balanced precariously upon. What he had never really considered before was how his life was not his own; it belonged also to Ginny, James, Albus, and Lily. They were the people he loved the most. They were the people most damaged by all he had done.

"C'mon, Harry," Ron said from the doorway. Harry jerked, sitting upright, a pile of parchment tipping over onto the floor. "Let's go to lunch."

"I really need to finish this," Harry said, glancing at the time. It was well past noon, well past his usual lunchtime. He couldn't even remember if he'd had breakfast. His stomach grumbled hopefully.

"You really need a break," Ron corrected. "C'mon, mate."

Ron didn't outright prod as Harry followed him to their favorite diner. It was his face, the slight frown, the raised brows, his aura silently screaming to "just let it out, Harry!" Ron genuinely wanted to help. His best friend had no idea what he was asking for. There was no one Harry could think of he wanted to know less. Ron would never forgive him. Harry could never expect him to.

They did not speak as they ate, though Harry imagined doing so. What would hit Ron first, he mused, the fact that Harry cheated on his sister, or the fact that he used to screw around with Severus Snape? Ron had never gotten over them naming Severus godfather to the children. Certainly not naming Albus after him.

At least Hermione made an effort with Severus. Harry liked to think they were friends, even. Hermione always spoke with Severus when they were in the same room. They had plenty to discuss, most of it going well over everyone else's heads. They even visited from time to time without the excuse of birthday parties or other family events.

Hermione might forgive his loving Severus, whether she understood their chemistry or not. Maybe if he had done things the right way…Well, that didn't bear thinking about. He hadn't done things the right way. And while Hermione might forgive his choice in partner, he did not think she would be so lenient in regards to his previous slip-ups. Falling in love with Severus Snape was one thing, cheating on one's wife another.

"I heard James got his own place," Ron prompted as their bill was brought to them.

"Yeah," Harry said numbly. "Eighteen, you know. Ready to be out on his own."

"Right," Ron scoffed, at least fed up with Harry's evasion.

What was another drop of guilt on the overflowing cauldron of it inside of him? Harry paid for them both. "He's just going through something right now," Harry offered. "Ginny and I are handling it. It's private."

"We're family," Ron reminded him. "Hermione and I, we only want to help."

"I know," Harry said, forcing a smile. "I appreciate that. But really. Ginny and I can handle this."

"If you say so, Harry," Ron sighed. "Just remember what I said, alright? There's nothing you can't tell us, you know that."

Harry smiled grimly. "Yeah, Ron. I know." If there was one things his oldest friends would never understand it was the mistake that led to all of this.

They chatted of lighter topics as they walked back to the office. Quidditch, mostly, leading to the attractiveness of various female players. Ron's biggest crush was Balbina Frost of the Canons, which provided endless amusement to his wife and friends. She was just his type: busty, leggy, dark-eyed, thick shiny hair, and to top it all off she was Keeper for his favorite team.

Harry's Quidditch-player of choice (other than his wife, mind you) was Fallon Walsh of the Kestrels. As Seeker, she was very small, but very toned, with bright blue eyes, freckles, and short golden curls.

"She's cute enough," agreed Ron. He only had eye for the curvaceous type, himself. "I hope you hide all your posters. You know how jealous Gin can be!"

"Yeah," Harry agreed dully, stepping into his office. The new file sitting neatly on his desk drew his attention before anything. It shouldn't have stood out, with all of the other paperwork piled everywhere. This, however, was sitting neat and straight right in front of his chair, as if Fern made a special place for it on his messy desk. Harry was too aware of the movement of his body, giving off no anticipation or impatience as he walked over to it.

Ron looked down at it curiously when Harry examined it. "Esther Unger?"

"Person of interest," Harry didn't quite lie. "Look, mate, I really need to get these forms filled out. But we'll have dinner soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," Ron agreed. With one last suspicious look at the file, Ron returned to work.

Esther Unger. Severus's current bed partner. His fingers drummed over the folder, just itching to tear it open, to scan every last word of it. The request had been put in the day after Severus mentioned her name, and only now had it come back to him. Every day he waited anxiously. Every day he fought the urge to check in, to draw any more attention to his search.

Now? Now, it didn't matter. Couldn't matter. The file was unceremoniously stuffed into the bottom drawer of his desk. Esther could have Severus. What Harry had to focus on was the family he had. What good did it do to cling to what could never be? What right did he have to be upset with Severus for keeping company? Did he expect Severus to be alone and miserable the rest of his life, pining for him?

It might have been nice, but it wasn't fair. Not to Severus, nor to Ginny.

* * *

Esther Unger was not a beautiful woman. Too tall for most men's tastes, her shapely form may have made up for it had it not been for her unfortunate face. Her features were too severe to be lovely, forehead too pronounced, mouth too wide, the upper lip larger than the lower. Her teeth were crooked. Her irises were an odd shade of gray-brown. Her hair was thin, the color of straw, a chunk of it gray on the right side.

No one would call her beautiful, but everyone would call her smart. Severus rather liked smart. They worked for St. Mungo's, though they only met by chance. Severus worked in experimental potions, improving or inventing recipes as needed, supplying basic needs in his downtime. She was a healer, primarily on the second floor, though she was experienced and knowledgeable enough to aid other wards. It was she who came to him, to see if he could possibly cure dragon pox. Drinks after work one night, one thing led to another, and now they had a mutually beneficial arrangement.

After all, no one generally found Severus attractive, either.

Trysts were not normally shared at the hospital, but Monday afternoon Esther called him to her office to "discuss his research." He took his fill touching every curve, biting kisses into her generous breasts, stroking soft, hairless legs. Esther was wet and ready for him, a woman's welcoming caress. Quiet, half-startled noises were puffed into his ear as he fucked her, and he could admit to being quite taken by them.

Esther was not pretty, but she was all woman. He enjoyed a woman's body; for looking, for touching. Never had he found a man's body appealing until Harry wormed his way into his heart.

Severus determinedly did not think of Harry as he fucked Esther on her desk. Now and again he thought he heard the echoes of Harry's deep groans. Shudders racked through him even as he shoved them out of mind. The flash of green behind closed lids as he came could have been anything, certainly nothing to do with Harry bloody Potter.

"Did you actually care to discuss my research?" Severus inquired once he was clean and clothed.

"Yes," Esther agreed. "Though I wonder if we might table that conversation for dinner?"

Severus shot her a suspicious look. They did not have dinner. They shared drinks and sex outside of work. At work they were friendly, sure. As friendly as either ever was. "I am not looking for a girlfriend, Ms. Unger."

"Oh, don't be daft," Esther replied. "I'm not proposing marriage. Say no if you like, but I do rather enjoy your company."

It rather sounded like a date. Esther had not denied that it was. Truth be told, Severus also enjoyed her company. Her mind was sound, not prone to flights of fancy. Esther was honest, noble, but not particularly pleasant. They suited each other, coworkers gossiped. Gossipers never gave Esther much credit; she was far kinder than he. Not cloyingly sweet, as one might want from a healer. Instead she was good, down to her core.

Severus had always been attracted to goodness, however far he himself strayed.

"Perhaps," Severus finally said.

Esther did not smile. The softening of her features betrayed her pleasure. This was an uncomfortable realization, as he had made no promises.

Severus had never been on a date before. He wasn't entirely sure he should start now. The only companionship he actively sought was the occasional hookup. What need had he of romance? Certainly his previous experiences falling in love did not give him any desire to do so again.

No, he did not expect to find love with Esther. What they did share was decent sex and more than decent conversation. He did not object, really, to spending more time with her. Besides, if sex bothered Harry so much, imagine his reaction if Severus ever found himself in a relationship.

"Tonight, at seven, then?" he asked, more on a whim than truly thinking it through.

Now Esther did smile, an ever so slight quirk of the mouth. "Yes, that is suitable."

* * *

Mealtimes with the Malfoys were always dignified events, but more so when Scorpius's grandparents visited. Scorpius was more polished than usual, in fancy pale blue dress robes. He was also quiet. Albus borrowed a set of silvery robes with golden clasps. It was more ostentatious than he normally cared for, but he held his head high as he examined his reflection. If only his hair wasn't such a hopeless case. Albus attempted to smooth down the dark mop as Scorpius plucked at the unopened letter sitting on the bedside table.

"Aren't you going to read Mabel's letter?" Scorpius asked.

"Oh, yeah, eventually," Albus said airily, straightening the front of his robes as though the action might also straighten out his nerves. "Don't want to be late to meet your grandparents. That would be rude."

Narcissa and Lucius were more rigid and coolly polite than their son. Lucius sneered when he greeted Albus. Narcissa smiled faintly, but patted his cheek. Her fingers were frail and icy cold. Her smile grew warm when she greeted her grandson, and offered him the same cheek pat. Scorpius and Albus glanced at each other. Scorpius's cheeks turned pink as Albus tightened his mouth to repress a smile.

"Are the Potters too busy with their legions of fans to care for their own offspring?" Lucius asked.

"Father," Draco warned curtly.

"Hush, Lucius," Narcissa whispered.

The silvery eyes so familiar in Scorpius's face were colder, sharper in that of the eldest Malfoy. Albus calmly met the gaze. However intimidating Lucius Malfoy thought he was, Albus was not worried. Not only did he trust Draco Malfoy to let no harm come to him, he trusted his father's status as Head Auror would protect him.

Besides, Albus knew more about Lucius Malfoy than Lucius Malfoy knew about him. For instance, Lucius did not know he sat before the son of one of his oldest friends. Albus wondered what the Malfoys thought of Severus being his godfather, and what their reaction might be if they knew he was more than that. Albus was tempted to see for himself. If he dared say the words, dared unleash more chaos, just for the sake of knowing precisely how the lines of Lucius Malfoy's face would shift once he knew.

Instead, Albus focused on what he did know. Holding that gaze for several long seconds, he eventually dropped his eyes pointedly to the covered left forearm resting on the table. Albus knew that beneath that long, elegant black sleeve was a mark etched in faded black. The same ghastly mark that marred his father's forearm, and that of Draco Malfoy's. Death Eaters, all of them, or they had been once upon a time.

Albus knew the atrocities committed by the Death Eaters, could envision Lucius and Draco and Severus performing those very crimes. He knew the ancient, dark history of the Malfoy family. Knew what generations of Slytherins had done in the name of blood purity. Knew the cowardly way the Malfoys had turned on the Death Eaters to save their own hides, and that of their son. Knew that to this day old heirlooms were hidden in dark corners, waiting to be uncovered, and the threat to the Malfoy family if they ever were.

When Albus met those silver eyes again, he quirked a brow and carefully sipped his juice. Lucius's face was stony, a drop of fear rippling in those eyes.

From the head of the table, Draco hid a smirk behind his goblet of elfwine. Narcissa primly wiped her mouth with a napkin. Scorpius shot Albus a warning glare.

"I only meant to comment on the Potters' naturally busy schedule," Lucius explained. "Such beloved heroes surely have myriad calls on their time."

"Yes," agreed Albus graciously. "Especially when one is Head Auror." He could have carried on, dropping hints of his father's investigations, but naming his career was threat enough for one evening.

"Quite," Lucius agreed tightly.

Draco offered him a wink before steering his father's attention. "Father, we never did finish our discussion of foreign investments."

As the adults began to converse about business, Scorpius leaned in. "What were you thinking?"

"Oh, you know, family honor and all that rot," Albus muttered gleefully. In part, perhaps, he did feel the rush to defend his parents. To deflect attention from why he had been a guest here for so long. Mostly, Albus had to admit, he just wanted to know what Lucius would do. Would he be angry? Fearful? Defensive? Proud? Ashamed? Such choices. Various Death Eaters displayed various reactions to their Marks being noted. And rare Albus could spot them without the fear of retaliation.

Once dinner was finished, the adults moved to the sitting room to share more wine while the teenagers went roaming the halls of the grand manor. Albus wasn't sure there was a crevice left undiscovered, but Albus hunted anyway. Scorpius came along, himself alert and checking within vases and behind frames.

"What do you think your family would do if they found out the truth? How would they react?" Albus asked.

"What? About you, you mean?"

"Yeah," Albus agreed. "They're close to Severus, or they used to be, right?"

"Yeah. Father still sees him sometimes. I dunno about Grandfather." Scorpius was quiet, considering, as Albus flipped through a book. Now that he was seventeen, he freely used magic to be sure it was just an ordinary book. No hidden messages or meanings or abilities there. Albus put it back and selected another.

"I dunno, really," Scorpius said. "Shocked, I guess. I think that would be anyone's reaction."

"Would they be angry?" Albus asked.

"I doubt it. None of them are personally affected by it. Grandfather might make snide remarks about your family, but he does that anyone. He'd only have new material to work with."

"Hmmm." Nothing unexpected found there. Scorpius had a point, most people would think the same. Little point in lingering on the what-ifs when it would never happen. Their love had been hidden for too long to be uncovered now. Albus wouldn't tell anyone - other than Scorpius, that was. He certainly wasn't telling Mabel. His heart clenched at the thought of her and the letter that lay unopened upstairs.

James might be hotheaded, but if he had come this far without spilling the beans, Albus didn't think he would anytime soon. James wasn't a spiteful person. He would never harm anyone with a clear head. It was only in the moment of his heightened emotion you had to worry about.

Lily was more spiteful than James, but too loyal to her own family, and too unwilling to sully her own image. No, Lily would not want to rock the boat while she was still on it. Besides, she was too much of a daddy's girl and would probably forgive Harry before anyone else did.

Even if his siblings were so inclined, his parents had been clinging to their facade for too long to give it up now. Harry and Ginny would reign them in at the first hint of indiscretion.

Knowing this set Albus at ease. This had been his secret, too, for so long. He was not willing to give it up now, whatever he felt towards his parents. In fact, he now had his siblings to rely on and confide in. It was, at last, the family's secret.

* * *

James entertained his whole first day in his new flat. It was for the best. James did not like to be alone. He always thrived in company, the more the merrier. School friends dropped by. Most brought gifts, others food, some only laughter, but James enjoyed all they gave. Their joy for him inspired joy in him. All day he rode the high.

Only after dinner the crowd trickled out until James was finally alone. Good spirits fled him as he collapsed onto his couch. He'd never been alone before last night. Bumps and creaks from neighbors weren't the same as feeling the presence of others. They were too distant. James liked more noise. More life.

"Jame?"

James popped up. Teddy stood in the doorway, smiling awkwardly. James quickly crossed the room to him. "You came."

"Of course I came," Teddy said. There was more he meant to say. James could tell. There was a fire in him now, though, and whatever Teddy had to say could wait. He grabbed the other wizard by the face, kissing him enthusiastically. Teddy stumbled forward with every backward step James took. He never stopped him as they fell into bed. A wave of a wand closed the door before anyone could peek in.

There were a thousand and one ways James wanted to have Teddy, but he was determined to make the most of his time. Here was his second chance. If he did everything right, maybe then Teddy would stay with him. James enthusiastically pushed all of his love and desire into every kiss, every touch, begging without words for Teddy to love him and want him in turn.

The second time was better than the first. James sank onto his lover with only a twinge of pain, soon becoming sighs of pleasure. When Teddy watched him, his face was clear and lax with awe. Never had James wanted to impress another person more, and threw everything he had into his performance.

Tonight, he would make Teddy Lupin his.


	7. To Hold That Swelling Truth

Chapter 7: To Hold That Swelling Truth

Chapter Text

Over the days, Ginny counted the times she had threatened to leave. Looking back, she wondered if she'd ever meant it.

Too many times to count, before Severus Snape disrupted matters. Through the anger, through the alcoholism, she hadn't known how much she could take. Ginny had struggled with her own demons in those days. She'd fought with her own rage. Who else did they have to target, but one another?

It had been every night woken from terrors with Harry pulling her into his arms and promising she was safe that kept her coming back. It was every night woken from his screaming where she would press kisses to his sweaty brow, and listen to the scenes that plagued him. They shared too much, even before the children. How could she walk away from the only person who understood? When the nightmares seized her, no amount of her mother's coddling compared, and she longed for her Harry to rock her back to sleep.

After Snape, Ginny learned just how much she could stand. The clashing of their recovery was a simple matter. They could heal together. They were healing together, day by day. The betrayal of her husband was novel. Unprecedented. Harry was solely to blame; Ginny had every reason to leave. Staying only welcomed more heartache, the wounding of her pride; time and again she wondered, was this a testament to her strength or evidence of her weakness?

The first time was the worst time, and the only time she had a chance of leaving. Pregnant a second time, proof of an affair she had only half suspected. He had told her, voice heavy with exhaustion, listening solemnly as she raged against him.

"Here I am, raising your son, while the pair of you carry on without a care in the world!" she'd screamed. "Am I an idiot, Harry? After everything I've done, and you carry on behind my back? Why? Why, Harry, why?"

James screamed from his nursery, disturbed by the noise. Harry's eyes had flicked to the door, but he remained where he sat. "I don't know. I was drunk."

"Drunk," she scoffed. "Of course you were. When are you not?"

"That's not fair!" Harry argued. "I've been better, haven't I?"

"No, you haven't," Ginny snarled. "You've been letting that useless bastard fuck you while I sit at home taking care of your responsibilities."

Ginny had left that night, James in tow. Her parents asked their questions and she kept her silence. James had been the product of their separation. This new child was proof of his waywardness. A new child, much like the one in her arms.

Staying meant Glamours, meant putting on another show. It meant putting her career on hold for a fake pregnancy. A whole season the Harpies would play without her. And for what? So her husband could crawl back into Severus Snape's bed while she changed diapers?

What would it mean, if she left? Giving up James? Even if it didn't, how would James be affected? What of James's brother or sister, growing up motherless? What of Harry, pregnant and alone. Snape would never love Harry the way she did, could never give him what he needed. All night she stayed awake, watching James sleep. She knew she couldn't go back to Harry, could not accept what he had done. All night she imagined her beautiful world falling apart around her. She considered every consequence that would befall them, and thought Harry deserved everything coming his way.

But by morning, when he was swearing to never touch Severus Snape again, swearing he loved her more than anything, whispering that he wouldn't blame her if she did leave, Ginny was relieved. Whether she believed him or not was inconsequential; all she had wanted was a reason to go home with him.

It was as easy to love Al as it was to love James. She loved him from the moment she decided to be his mother.

Years passed, and Ginny wondered now and again just what Harry did when he was at Snape's alone. She never wondered for very long. Ginny chose to trust her husband, because it was a long time before she had to face the facts. It was one sleepless night laying beside him, breathing in another man's scent that every fear swam through her, setting her imagination running wild. Harry had slept with Snape before, had cheated on her before. Why not now?

Despite her raising his sons. Despite the fact that she had finally given him a child of her own. Lily, their one year old daughter, cried hungrily from down the hall. Ginny slipped from bed, mechanically feeding the girl, then fixing breakfast for the boys. Harry was awake by the time the children were all fed and cleaned. He followed her as she packed their belongings.

"You smell like him," Ginny said brusquely when he asked her why.

She and the children stayed with her parents for days. All the while Ginny had bidden her time. Maybe she'd drop the word "divorce" and see how he would react. Ginny wanted him to hurt, wanted to punish him. Never once did she actually consider separation. Deep down she knew she'd go home again. They shared a family and a life; they always would.

Snape would never give Harry what he needed, Ginny reminded herself. Harry would always come back to her.

Only Ginny could give Harry what he needed. But did she give him what he wanted?

The new question rang through her skull whenever she was not distracted. So Ginny busied herself in preparation for Albus's homecoming. By day she worked, and in the mornings before and the evenings after she tidied up the house and straightened his room. She also bought new items to fill James's room, so it would feel homey whenever he returned.

Wednesday night, she helped Harry cook. He was always the better at it, and she wanted dinner to be perfect. Steak and kidney pie was Al's favorite. His dessert of choice had always been banoffee pie. Ginny took a fair crack at it, letting her husband take over midway through. She was too caught up in her own head to note his own pensive mood.

Lily, too aware of them both, opted to not set the table in an act of rebellion. Neither parent noticed. Ginny took the task upon herself, and at six on the dot Albus Flooed in.

"This looks great, Mum," Albus said awkwardly. "Dad."

"Welcome home, Al," Ginny said, kissing his cheek.

"Yeah, welcome home," Lily muttered moodily, flopping down at the dinner table.

The meal was a somber affair. James was a marked absence. Lily picked at her food. Albus ducked his head over his plate, quickly shoveling food into his mouth so that he might be excused early. It was not the evening Ginny had had in mind. Somehow her daydreams had involved more laughter and hugs, breaking the ice with a warm meal, nudging Al to accepting his father again. Ginny was frustrated with herself for failing her end, then decided to blame her husband instead.

It would never be over as long as Harry loved Snape, Albus had told her.

Harry always came back to her in the end, but how much of it was his love for her, and how much of it was lack of option? If he loved Ginny, was it because of her, or what she was doing for him?

If Snape ever decided he could give Harry more than a good fuck, would Harry still be here with her?

Only when the meal was wrapping up and both children were gone did Ginny speak. The words had been sitting on her tongue for minutes now. It would not do to hash this out in front of them. Certainly not after they had been through so much.

"I think we should take a break, Harry."

Harry laughed. "I cleaned as I went, Gin. The rest won't take long."

"That's not what I meant," Ginny said, pushing her plate away.

Harry frowned. "A break from what, Gin?"

"From us," Ginny said, considering the plan she had reviewed with her counselor once upon a time. "We finish off the summer for Al's and Lil's sakes. Then you move to Grimmauld Place, and I'll stay here. Six months. We see other people, live our own lives, and in six months we see if we still want to make this marriage work."

Harry stared at her for a long time. He watched as she rose from the table and collected the dishes. He sat in his same chair as she washed them and put them away. He didn't move until she walked upstairs, following her to their bedroom.

"I haven't slipped up in almost six years now," Harry said. "I did go to see Severus the other night, but nothing happened! I swear!"

"It's not about that," Ginny said. She moved into the adjoining bathroom to brush her teeth. It hadn't hit her yet, the reality of this. She hoped that moment would wait until she was alone. "You still love him. After all these years."

"I can't help that."

"I know," Ginny said. "Maybe this will."

"How? So I can go fuck him out of my system?" Harry snapped.

"Maybe I want to fuck you out of my system," Ginny retorted. "Maybe I want him to hurt you enough to break whatever spell he's cast on you. I don't know, Harry!"

Her husband stepped up behind her, rubbing her arms. "Gin, I know this is hard, everything. But don't you think we should stick together through this?"

Tears threatened to fall. Ginny turned in his arms and shoved him. "I think I've stuck by you long enough, Harry. For too long."

* * *

The remainder of summer passed by like a breeze. Tension never fully faded from the Potter household. Albus did laugh at his father's work stories. The shadow temporarily lifted from Lily's eyes when she and Harry went flying. Ginny smiled at him when others were around. Sometimes she even did so in private. She never did cuddle up to him in bed, unless she was asleep and unaware.

The night before school began, they made love. Ginny initiated it. She wore her most revealing pink gown. She kissed his neck. She took his hand and led him to bed. Her body arched beautifully into his touch. She was soft and silky smooth beneath his hands. Harry was hopeful when he slid inside of her. He clung to her sweaty, moaning form, pouring all that he had into her.

When she kissed him, though, at the end, it tasted like goodbye.

That kiss weighed heavily on Harry as they brought the children to King's Cross. Ginny laughed brightly, arm twined naturally with Harry's. Worry melted from Ron and Hermione's faces to watch them. Harry grinned through the pain, keeping up the act. It was a role both were well versed to. Never had the mask been so hard to wear. Always he'd had Ginny. She was his rock, his partner in crime. However she felt about him, they worked in tandem, so connected by their treachery.

Today, she'd never felt farther away.

Lily hugged her mother, then him, parting with a smacking kiss on his cheek. Harry laughed, fondly watching her red hair trail behind her as she ran to board the train. Lily was glad, truly, to be heading back to school. Albus mimicked his sister's normalcy. He hugged his mother, let his father pat his back, offering fake smiles as he promised to write soon. His departure settled matters for Ron and Hermione. To them, the danger had passed. Only Harry sensed that coldness beneath. Like them all, Albus had taken to lying perfectly.

"Dinner, all four of us this Saturday?" Hermione suggested.

"We'll get back with you," Ginny explained. "Harry and I have plans, you see?"

"Of course!" Ron agreed, clapping Harry on the back. "Owl us with a good time, then, yeah?"

"Sure," Harry agreed warmly. They would not be making that dinner date. Harry wondered how long Ginny would keep the charade up. They couldn't hide a six month break from the entire family, could they? Would they meet as a unit occasionally to keep up appearances? Would that defeat the purpose of a break? Harry wouldn't mind. He wasn't on board with this break at all.

* * *

At home, Ginny ran to Lily's room, locking the door behind her. They were carrying on with it, then? In a state of disbelief, Harry raised his wand, directing his belongings into a large trunk. Clothes, books, mementos. His broom followed last, settled neatly on top. Only Ginny's clothes hung in their closet, folded in drawers. Only Ginny's toiletries cluttered the bathroom counter. Only Ginny's shampoo in the shower. Harry swallowed around the lump in his throat.

They'd chosen this house together before they married. He had only left once in that time, during the separation early in their marriage. The separation during which he first discovered his attraction to Severus. If he had not been relegated to Grimmauld Place, had he not sought comfort in his friend, had he not been so devastated by the idea of divorce, would any of this have happened? Would he instead be truly happy and content with his wife and their children?

Silly question. James would not be James, Albus would not be Albus. Even Lily would not be Lily. What ifs were one thing, but Harry didn't have it in him to regret his children, regardless of cost.

Harry took his time on his last sweep through the house. The contents of his office were emptied completely. His favorite boots were nearly forgotten in the shed. His favorite cookbooks he took with him, as well as the box of his favorite biscuits. His trunk floated behind him as he circled back to the living room. A glance upwards, where Lily's room was overhead, where Ginny sat now. Was she crying? Was she regretting her choice? Was she cursing his name, begging him to hurry and leave? He wanted to go to her, hold her, kiss her, plead with her. She was more than his wife, more than a lover. She was his partner through hell and back. He didn't know who he was without her anymore.

He was not to say goodbye, though. There was only one thing left to do before leaving. Sliding off his wedding band, he dropped it onto the clutter tray on the coffee table, as instructed.

"Bye, Gin," he whispered and Disapparated.

* * *

Kreacher was dead some nine years now, and Grimmauld Place was lonelier than ever. The house was too big, too empty. Every breath in was a reminder of loss. Losing Sirius. Losing his parents. Losing Dobby, and then Kreacher. Losing Remus and Tonks. All of the people who once stood within these walls, the people who cared for him and who he cared for.

Losing Ginny, now. Losing his children. Losing Severus.

Harry went straight to Sirius's old bedroom and set his trunk to unpacking itself. Clothes and books zoomed through the air as he leaned against the window, looking down into the street. London wasn't Godric's Hollow. The Muggles below were in too much of a hurry. Even if they paused to look, they wouldn't see number 12. They wouldn't see Harry.

No one would see Harry here. No one would know he was here. No one knew what was happening because he'd let pretense control his life. Now he saw no escape from the lies he'd wound around himself. He couldn't talk to Ron or Hermione, or even Ginny. Neville and Hannah, maybe, if he wasn't too ashamed to face them.

Harry couldn't complain. He'd done this to himself.

They would spend six months apart, reuniting only for Christmas to be with the children. Otherwise, no contact. Free to date and shag whoever they pleased. Let her fuck half the town, if she needed, as long as she came back to him.

Was Severus fucking Esther now, he wondered?

Was Ginny already trying to move on?

No. Ginny always came back to him. They had separated before. Maybe she was punishing him. Maybe he deserved to hurt and worry the way she had hurt and worried for so long. Maybe she really did want him to get Severus out of his system.

He was free. No strings. No consequences. For all intents and purposes, he was a free man. Free to date and kiss and fuck anyone, though his mind only went to one person. Free to pay Severus a visit on his own. Free to share a glass of wine, cook him dinner, free to reach out and touch him without shame. The possibilities were endless. Even at his most reckless he had never indulged with Severus as he wanted.

Desire and sorrow danced within him. Conflicted, so conflicted. Items dropped to the floor as he loosed the spell. Would he really be able to get Severus out of his system? Or would indulgence only make it harder on them both? Would Ginny really come back to him? Or was she trying to move on?

He could unpack tomorrow. For now, he needed to go to work. If he didn't work, he was going to drink, and Harry did not trust his self control in a bar right now.

* * *

On the Hogwarts Express, Albus shared a compartment with Lily, Scorpius, Mabel, and her brother Eugene. Lily adored Mabel, giddily talking her ear off about inane topics. It galled Albus how unconcerned Lily seemed, after all they had been through that summer. Mabel grinned and cajoled, her presence like sunlight, drawing forth every ounce of hope and happiness in his sister.

Albus shied away from her light, tucked in by the window beside Scorpius. For a time Scorpius fended off Eugene's questions to Al, letting Al have his quietude. Peace was not the right word. Time had eased the wounds. It had not healed them.

Somehow Mabel's presence only made it worse. That was a new experience. Never had his girlfriend pulled all of the negative to his surface. The swamp of despair, distrust, anger, and shame sludged through his veins. The hate in his heart roared to life in the face of her love.

Mabel was sweet, offering all of her attention to his sister. That was her way, to give all of herself to whoever she gave her time to. When you talked to Mabel, you were her entire world for that time. During that period, she didn't see the shadow looming over him. Once she did, Mabel lifted her foot to kick gently at his knee. Alarm crossed Lily's face, and she dragged Mabel into a new conversation, scraping the bottom of the barrel for any topic uncovered. Mabel frequently looked to Albus. The question was on her lips, but she took the hint and left well enough alone, for now. The promise of soon went unspoken.

Soon she would be poking and prodding, urging him to spill his guts. Spill he might, now that he had broken that dam. He no longer had faith in his ability to hold back, now that the truth had broken free of him. Albus wanted to hold back, yet he didn't. He wanted to shout it from the tops of the towers, shedding light on the whole debacle. He did not want anyone to know, least of all her. The family secret was no longer a source of pleasure, but of deep regret. Of humiliation. The secret was not mysterious, it wasn't unique, it wasn't fun. It corroded, it festered, it poisoned.

Being near Mabel made his skin crawl. Knees clamped tightly around his clammy hands as he started fixedly out at the passing scenery. He did not want to be near her, he realized with surprise. He couldn't say why. Nothing had changed in her. Her laugh was as high and loud as ever. Her gums still showed bright pink whenever she grinned. Her arms and legs still shifted restlessly as she sat in one place for longer than a few minutes. In every way, she was perfect. Albus sat witness to her generosity of spirit as she entertained Lily, and it made him care for her all the more. And that itself terrified him.

Mabel, source of goodness, offered him now only dread.

* * *

When Ginny emerged from Lily's room, it was to an empty house. It was not as if she'd never stood here alone. How many nights had she spent curled up on the couch with a book, children at school, Harry working late? During very serious cases, she might not see her husband but for brief moments when he came home to crash in bed.

This was a different sort of emptiness. The presence of her family did not linger. There was no sense of impending return. Harry was gone. Not only in body, but in spirit. A twinge of relief mingled with her sorrow. All summer she'd hardened herself, preparing for this moment. Was it relief to have fulfilled this long overdue decision, or relief to have him away from her?

Last night, making love, it felt like closure. Harry couldn't be close enough to her, then. For the first time in months she let herself love him, basking in the glow of it. It made the parting easier, to have that bittersweet time to look back on.

Change loomed on the horizon. A new life, a new Ginny. Hope rose to the surface as she drifted down the stair, hand grazing along the banister. In the past months she spared only enough consideration for this day, with no plans for what she would do with her newfound freedom. No children for the next few months, no husband. For the first time in many years, Ginny could devote time and energy to herself, and only herself.

When he came back, she thought to herself, she would be stronger. They would be happier. During these six months she would gain wisdom, a sense of independence she had lost along the way, maybe adventurous stories she and Harry could laugh over when he was home again.

He's not coming home, the house seemed to breathe. Ginny shrugged the away the heaviness of the air. The flare of enthusiasm was what she clung to for strength as she walked into the living room. The high of it flew from her when she saw the glint of his ring sitting where she'd demanded. Ginny's fingers grasped her own band, twisting the ring around her finger.

This was good, she reminded herself as she pulled the ring off, dropping it beside Harry's. The shackles were gone. True freedom, now. She smiled even as tears trailed down her cheeks. Excitement twisted itself through her distress. Nervous energy vibrated through her. Ginny walked away from the rings, out the back door, unsure what she was doing, only that she had to do something.

Maybe she'd fly. Or garden, even. She could expand what they had here. Harry would come home to a nice new garden. It would fill her time in a productive manner. In the shed she passed her broom, grabbing the trowel. Gripping it like a weapon, she marched out into the garden, trying to hold unwelcome memories at bay.

It was with trowel in hand, she recalled, the only time she confronted Snape. It had never been intended as a weapon, really, but Snape had quirked his brow in a superior manner.

"Surely you know appropriate curses for the occasion," Snape snarked. "Or does your Muggle-loving father teach all of his children to brawl with Muggle implements?"

Ginny dropped it to the floor, quivering with useless rage. "You've been expecting me, then?"

"Not entirely," Snape replied. "Would you mind setting that outside?" His hands resumed the chopping of a tomato, back turning to her. Ginny wanted to kick it across the floor childishly, but reigned in the instinct. Instead she left it right where it was, breathing composure into her stiff body."I had assumed you would turn a blind eye, as you are wont to do. At least in regards to Harry."

Never had Ginny heard Snape refer to her husband by his first name. Gooseflesh erupted across her arms. Too intimate for him to say it, least of all with the purr in those two syllables.

"Is it a potion, then, or an enchantment?" Ginny demanded, face burning. Magical coercion was the only excuse she could think of for her husband's behavior. Nothing else made sense, it never had. A one off might be excusable, but as an ongoing arrangement there had to be more to the story. Harry could not be truly in lust with this atrocious, hideous wizard. Certainly not when he had Ginny. And if Harry were bisexual, there were better male offers out there than Severus Snape.

"I assure you, I did not lure your husband into my bed by underhanded means," Snape said, still expertly dicing his fruit. "In fact, more often than not, I am not the one luring."

Before she knew what she was doing, Ginny pulled her wand free from her robes. Snape's knife began cutting into a block of mozzarella on its own. His pale hand was bright against black robes, right where his own wand must reside.

"Do you intend to duel for your husband?" Snape inquired, amusement ringing clear. Ginny reluctantly lowered her wand. "I have no desire to fight for him, Mrs. Potter."

"Then keep your filthy hands off of him," Ginny snapped.

"They're only filthy after I'm done with him."

Sparks flew from the end of her wand, so Ginny stowed it away before she could be tempted further. A dozen and more jinxes flashed to mind. Would any of them make a difference? It had been wrong to come here, she knew. It had not been her plan. None of this had been thought out at all. She had been hiding in the shed, overcome by emotions she could not process, and found herself Apparating into Snape's home with a gardening tool still clutched in her hand.

"He says he's done with you," Ginny said as calmly as she could.

"Ah, but he's said that before, has he not?"

"Maybe. But I'm not going anywhere. And neither is he. It's me he comes home to. Every time."

"If only you could keep him there."

The words cut deep. Ginny summoned her trowel back to her hand. "I don't know what hold you have over him, Snape, but it's not enough. Maybe he strays, but it's me he returns to in the end. You might have him for a while, but you'll never keep him."

"There is only one thing I want from him, and that I get," Snape snarled. Ginny could almost think he was lying. If she thought him capable of real human emotion, she might think he actually cared for her husband. "I send him back into your safekeeping once I've used him for all he's worth."

"Your loss, then, to not see he's worth more than that."

"Does he tell you what he wants, Ginevra? What he really wants?" Snape advanced on her, was breathing into her face, eyes alight with malice. "Does he tell you what he begs me for? Have you the faintest clue what I do to him?" Snape sneered. "It must gall that you can't give the boy what he needs."

Ginny smiled, then, knowingly. Snape faltered here, studying the quirk of her mouth, the glow of knowledge brightening her face. However confused and disgusted she may be by this aberration, Ginny knew her husband. She knew him better than anyone. Certainly better than this selfish, lonely monster.

"You don't know what Harry needs," Ginny assured him. She could have carried on, listed the ways he would never know her Harry. Snape was thrown off by her words now. Ginny liked to fight dirty, but she liked winning even more. Waving cheerily with her free hand, she Disapparated.

That night she hummed merrily while fixing dinner. She greeted Harry with a kiss when he came home. She was in high spirits as she tucked in the children, and lascivious when alone with her husband at last. For that night, he was hers, in every way.

Such a shame it hadn't lasted.

* * *

It was that same confrontation Severus considered as Hermione prattled over tea. She spoke for a time about how things appeared so much better between Harry and Ginny. Severus bitterly held his tongue, carefully sipping his tea.

Hermione always pressed for any insight he had into the Potter marriage, especially of late. Trouble in paradise? It was no wonder. Still, Severus refused to gossip, at least about the Potters. Hermione had been frustrated, pleading with him to help them through matters. If the Potters wouldn't talk to the Weasleys, perhaps they would confide in a Snape. Not bloody likely. But what would Minister Granger know about that? Clearly she didn't have the first inkling as to what was causing the tension between the couple.

Not that it mattered now, at least not to Hermione. Severus was not fooled. Harry and Ginny had mastered their public faces. Only Severus ever saw through them.

It would not be unlike Ginevra to forgive her husband all of his sins. It was Severus she blamed for the whole affair. Rarely was Harry the target of her fury. Bearing that in mind, she had only really confronted him the once. She reminded him then that Harry would always return to her. Severus in turn reminded her, as he liked to do, that her husband would never stop throwing himself at him. It galled, for a time, that she seemingly won.

What Ginny may not know were every furtive kiss Harry stole over the years. What she may not know was how recently Harry had clung to him, rubbing his eager manhood against Severus. Somehow Severus doubted Harry had told her. Severus also knew Harry would excuse the whole incident as a lapse in judgment, consoled that they had not moved beyond a bit of rubbing. No orgasms, no promises broken.

Severus didn't see it that way. He doubted Ginevra would, either.

"You still won't tell me what it was all about, then, Severus?" Hermione asked.

"Not likely, no."

Hermione smiled. "You're a good friend to them, Severus, even if I could strangle you for it sometimes."

"Ah, yes. The inevitable threats upon my life. I thought better of the Minister of Magic."

"Oh fa," Hermione scoffed. "Hardly a threat. More of a fantasy."

Such a shame she was married, and likely less likely to disregard those vows than her friend. For Severus could indeed fantasize about her. In fact, he might bring this up to Harry, if he ever saw him again. The brat's jealousy might be fun to play with.

Any fantasies he might entertain with regards to Hermione's curvy body soon fell into fantasies about telling Harry every filthy thing he would like to do to Minister Granger. Fantasies about how Harry, in his envy, would try to chase every woman from Severus's memory. With tongue and teeth and hands.

"Just to be certain, I may save this memory for a pensieve," Severus warned.

Hermione only chuckled, nibbling on a biscuit. "I really shouldn't make such crude jokes in my position. However, I'm not sure you can have a friend if insults and threats aren't exchanged."

"Ah. And you are under the impression we are friends, Minister?" Severus asked.

"Hermione," she corrected promptly. "And yes, even if you are an arse about it."

Severus harrumphed as he selected his own biscuit.

"You've been in our lives a long time, Severus. As friend, as honorary family," Hermione explained. "You don't have to pretend you don't care. We won't think any less of you."

Strange, how his supposed friendship to Harry had brought him a slew of other so-called friends and self-proclaimed family. Severus did not claim any of them, though he now wondered at his semi-frequent visits with the Longbottoms and with Hermione Granger. There were people in his life besides Harry who checked in on him, reached out to him, desired any contact with him.

Did he care about them? He certainly cared about Harry, much more than he liked to admit. Difficult to deny even to himself, how deeply he was in love with the little slut. What did that mean for the strays that followed Harry along? Attachment born out of pity or obligation or both, but it existed surely.

No, it didn't bear thinking about.

"Please, Minister, no sentiments over tea."


	8. To My Fool's Bed

Chapter 8: To My Fool's Bed

Chapter Text

Ron made no comments at work. Harry expected him to pop in, wearing disappointment or worry on his freckled face. Instead Ron joked and laughed, at his ease for the first time in months. They had really fooled them, Harry thought, dumbfounded. Ginny had yet to leak news of their break to anyone. Even at the end she had never said what her intentions were, and Harry had been holding out hope she would take the whole thing back.

There must be hope for them, if Ginny didn't tell anyone. If they were pretending everything was fine. It would only be real if the family knew, Harry decided. As long as matters stayed between them, he had nothing to worry about.

It felt real enough when he wasn't working, but Harry only went to Grimmauld Place to sleep. He ate out for his meals, working slavishly well past his usual hours, and exploring local bars in his downtime. He never ordered a drink, though he was sorely tempted. Bad enough he'd consumed firewhisky with Severus, right after the children discovered the truth. Look where that had led - nearly slipping up in more ways than the one. Harry had regained his self-control with Severus, and now refused even beers with dinner until he felt on more solid ground. Recovery would be ongoing, for the rest of his life, he knew. He couldn't afford to let his guard down.

Whatever he told his department, there was only so much work that needed doing. By day he took to the streets, hunting recently escaped Delphini Riddle. By night, he tackled what had once been endless paperwork. Now, his paperwork had never been so up to date, his desk never so organized. It was while tidying up his desk one night the following week that he came upon that file of Esther Unger. He set it on his desk, glancing at it throughout the day, only daring to open it once the day was over and his department was blessedly still.

Esther was not very pretty, was his first unkind thought. Her figure was decent enough, he amended to himself, examining multiple photos. Curvy hips, full bust, and her stomach was only a bit flabby. Esther also wasn't necessarily ugly. Not much. There were more hideous witches out there, at any rate.

The witch was a healer for St. Mungo's with quite the pedigree. She came from a long line of successful witches and wizards, all well-respected intellectuals. She was well-educated, graduating from Hogwarts with honors, an alumnus of Ravenclaw House; she had been part of many groups such as Charms Club, the choir, and the gobstones team; she studied mediwizardry abroad with top names in the field; even now she continued her studies in her spare time, learning every branch of mediwizardry available. She had published several papers on various diseases. Even articles outside of her specialty were well received from Transfiguration Today and Spellwork Solutions. Most recently she had been featured in The Daily Prophet, a long-winded essay about research being done on dragon pox, a passion project shared with "brilliant potioneer, Severus Snape."

"Dragon pox," Harry muttered viciously. "Very sexy."

Esther must know a lot about potions. She could probably keep up with Severus intellectually, sharing in-depth conversations about their complementary fields of study. They probably got off listening to each other use big words. Maybe he read the dictionary to her as foreplay.

Did he grab her hips with the same possessive need he grabbed Harry's? Did he groan into her ear and whisper how good she felt around him? Did she tremble in his arms, the way Harry trembled now at the memory? Did he collapse onto her in the end, sweaty and panting, holding her close like he never wanted her to slip from his grasp? Was he as hungry for her as he always was for Harry?

The jealous monster in his chest roared. Harry flipped the file closed, drumming his fingers on his desk. They were good together, Harry thought. Neither was conventionally attractive, both shared a dedication to knowledge, both exceedingly talented in a variety of skills.

Their babies would be hideous, Harry thought viciously. They probably only fucked for the sake of convenience, a quick in and out to relieve an all too human need. He was probably bored, humping into her. She probably thanked him blandly after the fact. Harry snorted, rubbing his hands irritably through his wild hair. No, Esther Unger would not inspire that level of passion in anyone, much less Severus.

No, Severus's intensity burned for Harry alone.

Stuffing the file back into his drawer, Harry stood and half ran from his office. Once out of the Ministry, hidden from Muggles, Harry Apparated directly into Severus's living room. For days he had held himself back, unable to decide what to do, but now he knew. He couldn't let Esther have Severus. He had to remind Severus of what he had to offer.

It was spur of the moment, born of his own selfish jealousy. Severus always commented on his lack of preparation, lack of forethought. Might as well prove him right. Nerves jumped testily at the sound of music, a quiet symphony from the phonograph in the corner. Quiet laughter from the other room. Harry squared his jaw as he marched into the kitchen. The beast within flung itself against its cage, roaring furiously.

The pair stood conversing, glasses of red wine in hand. Esther wore a form-fitting pink dress, more romantic than the severe cuts worn in her photos. Severus wore his usual black attire, though the first few buttons were undone, exposing a tease of pale chest. Harry wanted to press his mouth to that flesh, biting and sucking, marking him as his.

"Pardon me," Harry said coldly. "Severus, we need to talk. Now. It's urgent."

"He never did have manners," Severus said with a tight smile to Esther. She frowned and glanced between the wizards. Harry struggled not to glower at her. "What can I do for you, Auror Potter?"

"We need to speak. Privately."

"My office hours begin at eight in the morning. I am rather busy at the moment."

"And I said it was urgent," Harry snarled. Any number of subjects could require urgency, be it help on a case, or even their children, for Merlin's sake! Leave it to Severus to draw it out, make him look a fool in front of his guest.

"I suppose I can take a rain check, Severus," Esther said, voice strained beneath the effort of cordiality. Severus was staring at Harry by now, his gaze calculating, magnetizing. Esther stood there a moment, as if waiting to be corrected, then set her glass down forcefully. "Goodnight, Severus. Auror Potter." Head held high, she strode from the room. Harry snatched the glass from Severus's hand, gulping what remained of the wine, as he heard the crackling of the Floo.

"You were always a rude, nasty child. I had hoped age would improve matters," Severus said. "To what do I owe this unpleasant surprise?"

"I'm sorry, did I interrupt your date?" Harry snapped.

The blackness of his eyes burned with cruel triumph. "Yes." Harry grabbed his collar and shoved him into the wall. "Aren't you pleased, Harry? Here I am, helping remove temptation from your grasp."

"Did you fuck her tonight?" Harry demanded. The hammering of his pulse rang loudly in his ears, vibrating through his skull.

"Not yet," Severus replied nastily. "I rather like to build the momentum with those worthy, you see? Take my time to savor them. I had you crowing within ten minutes, imagine what I can do with an hour of seduction."

"I hate you," Harry seethed venomously. He leaned in thoughtlessly, nose bumping Severus's roughly.

"No more than I hate you," Severus replied against Harry's mouth. The taller form leaned in for the promised kiss, but Harry turned his face away. Severus growled in frustration, teeth and lips bumping across his jaw in half-formed kisses.

"Did you kiss her?" Harry asked. His body was strung tight with tension, fury and desire raging through his stiff body.

"I have," Severus whispered into Harry's ear. "Often."

"Tonight?"

Harry felt the man's lips curl savagely against his ear as he breathed the word, "Yes." Tongue stroked beneath his ear, already oversensitive flesh reacting strongly to the warm, wet feel of it, and Harry bit back a moan.

This time Severus shoved him, a few feet back against the counter. The edges dug sharply into his lower back. Hooked nose slid alongside his own as Severus held him there, breathing in his air, black eyes alight with brutal humor. Harry grit his teeth. He wanted to punch him. He wanted to punish him for being with Esther.

"You don't have the right," Severus said. One hand stroked Harry's belly, right above his crotch, and Harry bit his lip. The hand slid around his side, folding around his back, tugging him forward until they were flush against each other. "You don't get to begrudge me this."

Harry wanted to rip him to shreds as Severus dropped his hand away, turning from him. He reached forward to grab the man, pulling him back, forcing him into a merciless kiss. Severus grunted into his mouth, returning the enthusiasm as he crushed Harry against the counter. Esther's abandoned wine fell over, spilling down the cabinets as Harry braced his arm behind him. The glass rolled, resting on the edge, but not for long. Severus thrust his burgeoning erection against Harry, his arm sliding across the counter, nudging the glass so that it crashed to the floor.

"Careless brat," Severus snapped, grabbing Harry by the hips and turning him around. His arms scrambled for purchase as Severus pulled at his red auror robes, shoving away only the fabric guarding his destination. The man didn't even bother with proper preparation, instead pressing the tip of his wand between his arse cheeks, two murmured incantations lubricating and stretching the area. It was an unpleasant, almost stinging sensation within, and Harry glared over his shoulder as Severus hastily parted his own robes, pulling his cock free from his trousers. Before Harry could even blurt out words of protest or encouragement, Severus was shoving his way roughly inside.

Harry cried out. Severus paused, fingers digging harshly into his hips. "Alright?"

"Yeah, go," Harry gasped. He held himself up on his hands, lifting his head enough to stare out of the window above the sink. The moon glowed brightly upon Severus's garden. He thought he saw a gnome sneaking through the fence before Severus's merciless thrusting drove all awareness from his mind. Blessedly, his mind could rest, blank as sensation overtook everything. The firm feel of his lover filling him, stretching him, taking him. Cool, calloused fingers digging where Severus held him down. Hot, heavy breathing on the back of his neck. Then Severus nudged his prostate and he took in a sharp breath. Severus adjusted his stance, aiming relentlessly for his target, until Harry's face was pressed into the counter top, whimpering helplessly with pleasure.

Severus came first, stiffening behind him, grunting into his ear. Harry let out a pitiful sound as Severus pulled suddenly free of him, manhandling him once again until they faced one another. Severus glowered down at him as he took Harry's manhood in hand, stroking once, twice, until Harry fell over the edge, body bending double in the force of it.

For only a few seconds did Severus hold him up. He stepped away as soon as he was able, leaving Harry to slide to the floor, his legs wobbly and useless. He panted where he sat, watching Severus calmly right his clothing and walk away.

For a man without a plan, this had not gone at all like Harry may have hoped. Cringing, he mentally cursed himself, gasping when his palm encountered a shard of broken glass. Harry scooted away from the shattered remains and carefully cleaned himself with a spell and fixed his clothing. Unsteadily he stood, rubbing his lower back. There was soreness, there, of a sort he hadn't enjoyed in too long. The atmosphere did not lend to delighting long in it.

Severus in the living room when Harry entered. He sat in his chair, finger tracing his thin lips, gaze unfocused on the fire. Harry walked up to him awkwardly.

"This wasn't what I meant to happen," Harry said, clearing his throat.

"What did you come here for, Potter?" Severus asked, tone more exhausted than he meant. Harry could hear the strain of the failed snark.

"You," Harry said simply. "Ginny and I are taking a break from our marriage. Six months. To…" Here he swallowed. "To sort out what it is we really want."

"Of course," Severus stated dryly. "Ginevera finally lets you off your leash and you come crawling here, expecting I'll be glad of whatever scraps I'm given."

"That's not what this is," Harry argued, pained. Always he'd thought of the hurt he gave Ginny; this was a classic reminder that she was not the only one affected. Even in the midst of their ongoing affair, he knew every night he crept out to return to his wife he was digging the knife in deeper. In the best of times he was breaking Severus's heart, however often he returned, because he never stayed. His inability to choose between them was always a sore point. When he finally had to choose, finally committed himself fully to Ginny, he hoped it might get better.

Maybe it finally had been, with Esther. Maybe he'd finally found someone new he could love and keep all to himself. Typical Harry, of course, bungled it up by barging in. What right did he have to be hurt? He was the source of pain to the people he loved most; he could suffer a bit of it himself.

Only now, finally, he and Severus could be together without barriers. They could finally see if this entanglement between them was lasting, if it was durable. After all of this time, they had an opportunity. An opportunity Severus had wanted, once. Perhaps it had come too late. What right did he have to make demands? To ruin whatever Severus had with Esther?

Harry bowed his head. "I love you."

"And what does that love mean, Potter?"

"It means I'm here! It means I want to give us a chance!"

"And I'm supposed to be grateful?" Severus asked, voice dangerous and slow.

"You seemed grateful enough five minutes ago."

"I'm always grateful to have a willing receptacle, whoever it may be."

"Don't do that!" Harry snapped, wounded. "Don't act like this is nothing."

"It is 'nothing'."

Harry's jaw clenched, half believing the man for a moment. However good Severus may be at hiding his feelings, he couldn't hide them from Harry. He was guarded - too guarded for a man pretending not to care. So Harry crossed the room, crawling into Severus's lap. The man immediately moved to shove him away, but Harry grasped his arms and held on tight. "You can have me, if you want me. I won't go home in the morning. I won't watch the clock." Hope and hatred blazing bright in the black eyes he so loved. "If you don't want that, then say it. If you want to see things through with Esther…" Here his jaw clamped shut, unable to say it was fine. It wasn't fine.

Severus grabbed him, rising to his feet with Harry scrabbling to cling to him. Unceremoniously he dumped Harry onto the couch. Harry twisted to right himself, staring at his lover as the man summoned a phial from the other room. The deep violet potion was thick, coating the sheer container, glinting darkly in the firelight. Severus's black gaze held Harry's as he pulled the cork out with his teeth, spitting it aside before drinking deeply of the contents. Then he placed his hand on the back of the couch, behind Harry's head, pressing the lip of the phial to his mouth. Harry parted his lips willingly, tilting his head back to accept the gift.

It oozed slowly down his throat, fizzling like a soda all the way down. It tasted of black cherries, dark chocolate, with a heavy floral kick. Harry couldn't read the man, but the potion was warm and growing warmer as it slid towards his stomach. "What was it?"

"Idiot," Severus said fondly. Slender hands grasped his shoulders and shoved him down lengthwise before straddling him. Arousal stirred deep in his core, causing the beast within to growl indecently. "I could have poisoned you."

"You can kiss me instead," Harry gasped, entwining his fingers in the dark hair that fell around him.

"I'm going to do more than kiss you, Harry," Severus purred. Still, the request was obeyed, a teasing kiss that stroked the embers of desire so recently satiated. In doing so, he fulfilled his own promise, long into the night.

* * *

Precisely one week into the new school year, Albus had managed to avoid his girlfriend but for classes. Always an excuse was at the ready if she sent notes dancing after him, or dropping into his lap via owl post. For the most part, he tried to stay busy, not only to avoid lying to Mabel as much as possible, but also by means of distraction. He studied hard, turned in extra credit work, joined the Gobstones team, the chess team, the Charms club, and he even visited his sister, to her delight. Otherwise he was glued to Scorpius's side, feigning very important conversations that Scorpius struggled to portray convincingly.

At breakfast on Wednesday, Mabel forewent use of her pygmy owl, Otis. Scorpius nudged Albus to bruising at her approach. The porridge he'd lifted to his mouth spilled down the front of his robes. "Damn it, Scorp," Albus grumbled, doing a double take as Mabel came up behind them. Her lovely face was weathered by her worry.

"Alby, take a walk with me?" she asked.

"I really shouldn't, I -" Albus said, but Mabel stomped her foot. Her face was pink, screwed up with frustration. A year ago Albus would have found it horrendously adorable.

"We need to talk," she demanded. "Now."

Patience lasted only so long with Mabel. Her sufferance was saintlike for a time, but it did not fade gradually, but fell away all at once. A week was plenty of time to her, and now that she had waited, she would dig until she had what she wanted.

"Fine," Albus grumbled. He took his time wiping the porridge from his front until Mabel spelled it clean in exasperation. The spell was too forceful, leaving a fist-sized spot faded on his robes, smelling of smoke. All down the Slytherin table, his house mates ducked close to whisper. Curious faces turned towards them from the other houses as Albus scrambled up, following Mabel out of the Great Hall.

Once outside the doors, she grabbed his hand tightly and pulled him out into the cool September morning. She said nothing as she marched them to a private area near the lake. His hand was sweaty in hers, and he half hoped it would slide right out of her grip.

"Spill it, Albus. What's going on?" Mabel asked, as calmly as she dared. He didn't even have to speak, only open his mouth, for her to sense the lie brewing. "You were so…weird…last year, Al! I barely heard from you all summer. I didn't see you once! And now, now that we're here, you've been avoiding me! Something is eating at you, Al, and I need to know what it is! We can't keep going on like this!"

"You're right," Albus agreed, turning to look at the lake. He felt outside of himself as he spoke, looking upon his own cowardice from afar. "You deserve better."

"Thank you," Mabel said, so easily placated. The terrible energy of her settled as she wrapped her arms around her middle. "So what's wrong?"

"You deserve better," he repeated meaningfully. "I hope you find better."

Her mouth fell open. Blue eyes widened, staring uncomprehendingly. He smiled apologetically as he walked away. All the while she stood there, watching him go. Only when he breathed a sigh of relief, thinking he was far enough away, did he hear her anguished sob behind him. His face crumpled and he ducked his head, picking up his pace to carry himself as far away from her as he could.

* * *

Enough was quite enough for Ginny Potter, having to hear from Fleur that her son was sick. It had been two months since she'd seen him last! She had not set foot in his new home, and had to hear from a source that James officially joined the Falmouth Falcons as Chaser. Ginny requested a meeting, then, on a purely professional basis, but was rebuffed even then. James owled back his statement, already aware of what his mother needed for her work. Ginny pinned the note up in her office, gaze straying to her son's handwriting multiple times a day.

Now, Ginny stood, dignity wrapped around her like a cloak. In her arms she cradled a pot of soup, a bag draped over her arm with other necessities. She knocked loudly, clearly, bracing herself for impact. Whatever James did, if he slammed this door in her face, she would at least get a good look at him, and be sure he took the offered goods.

James was extremely pale when the door opened, eyes hazy with sleep as he blinked at her. "Hey, Mum." He frowned at her full arms. "Did Vic send you?"

"Your Aunt Fleur," Ginny corrected. She felt off balance now, having so prepared for a storm. Her poor Jamesy really was sick. "May I come in?"

"Yeah, sure," he said, shuffling aside to let her through.

The flat was quite sparsely set up. A single couch, a small bookcase, a small dining table and chairs. No decorations but for a few signed posters of bands and Quidditch teams on the walls. Ginny set about warming the pot with a spell, unloading the contents of her bag. James joined her at the bar, sitting himself on the one stool, slumped forward as he meekly watched her. Out came the bread, the potions, and a few treasures he'd left behind. One was the rather lopsided blanket Ginny had knitted him years ago.

James reached for the blanket, wordlessly wrapping it around his shoulders. Ginny pressed the backs of her fingers to his forehead before ruffling his hair. No fever. According to Fleur he'd been ill off and on for several weeks. "Have you seen a healer?"

"This morning," James agreed. Ginny rummaged through his cabinets; only one clean bowl, and only two dirty ones in the sink. She'd have to run to a shop and bring him more. The clean bowl was filled with soup and she neatly placed it before her son. "They don't think I have a bug. Must just be something I eat that disagrees with me? I dunno, I barely want to eat. I sick up just about everything."

"Hmm," Ginny said. The fridge was equally spare, only a bit of pumpkin juice that would not sit well on his stomach. No tea in the cupboard, hardly anything there but snacks. Ginny snorted and returned to her bag, glad she'd brought along tea of her own. She set the kettle started then took out her wand as she approached him.

"Mum," James sighed. "If the healer couldn't find anything, what are you going to do?"

"Stand up," Ginny instructed. "Fleur says it's been weeks like this?"

"Yeah," James said. "I don't know how I make it through practice. I get home and stuff my face and fall asleep, if I'm lucky. If I'm less lucky I throw it all back up and sleep in the bathroom. It's miserable."

"You shouldn't be flying when you feel like this," Ginny fussed. "No wonder you're so unwell; you won't let yourself recover!"

"I can't miss practice, Mum, I just joined the team!" James argued.

Gears began to turn in Ginny's mind as she looked James up and down, hesitating before starting any spellwork. "I thought you didn't have much appetite," she said, reaching out to pinch his protruding stomach. Nothing, she was sure. If he was eating nothing but pumpkin pasties, no wonder he was sick, no wonder the pudge.

"Yeah, well, when I can keep something down, I'm ravenous, aren't I?" James said. He frowned as she stared at him considering. "What is it?"

"James," Ginny began, crossing her arms uncertainly. The pieces were clicking into place, and she did not like the image they were forming. Her wand was clutched tightly in one hand, nervous silver smoke puffing from the tip. "Are you pregnant?"


	9. HopeProlongs the Torments of Man

Chapter 9: Hope...Prolongs the Torments of Man

Chapter Text

James sat at the bar, spooning warm soup into his mouth, ignoring his mother. Ginny flitted from one area to the next, straightening his few belongings, then setting about writing down a list. She muttered under her breath of things to pick up from the store. Milk, eggs, vegetables, fruit, meat, bowls, plates, cups, etcetera. James ground his teeth.

How did she even know he was gay? He thought he'd always hid it very well. He had a plethora of girlfriends throughout school. The crush on Teddy had been the deepest secret of his heart. Even his experiments with other boys had been closeted away in well warded closets at Hogwarts, with stern swears to never tell. Wizardkind grew more accepting as time passed, but it was not so forgiving of same-sex relationships as one might hope. Being Harry Potter's son meant his outing would be rather public, and so would his shaming.

James didn't plan on hiding forever, but why deal with the fuss sooner than he had to? He had fantasies of an extended, private courtship between Teddy and himself, only announcing their relationship when they were to be married. They would present a unified front, and they would be such a sweet and happy couple that no one could help but to root for them. Any hate that came their way would be handled as partners, in life and love.

"I wasn't trying to insinuate anything about your figure," Ginny finally said. "Or your preferences."

The young wizard snorted. "You pinched my fat and implied I was gay." James shrugged gruffly. "Which I am. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"There's not," agreed Ginny. "I always suspected." She smiled, amused, at his incredulous look. "I'm your mother. I know you. Besides, you don't hide things very well, Jay."

"Yeah, well," James muttered. Relief settled over him, the same warm comfort as the blanket still wrapped around him.

Ginny rested her arms on the counter that separated them, leaning forward to look him in the eye. Now that he knew whose eyes he shared, he couldn't help but look away from her. She was his mother, she'd said. She was, at that. Who else came by with all of the proper cures for a stomachache? Even though he hadn't seen her or spoken to her properly all summer? Even though he'd been so upset with them all, including her, all that time?

James did miss her, though. He missed all of them, and he hated that he did. Only because he was feeling unwell and his guard was down, could he accept her presence so easily.

"James, have you been intimate with a boy?" Ginny asked awkwardly.

"Mum!" James snapped, leaning away from her, heat staining his face red.

"Answer me," she said firmly.

"Yes, and?" James snapped.

"James. I am genuinely concerned that you might be pregnant," Ginny said. James gaped at her, aghast, but she was dead serious. "You were on the receiving end?" However put together she appeared, however take-charge her manner, there was an awkwardness to that tone. Her own face was bright pink, even as she watched him closely.

James swallowed, the jerk of his head possibly a nod. "But I can't be pregnant, Mum. I didn't take the potion. I swear I didn't! I wouldn't do that to T-" He quickly cut off before finishing Teddy's name. Ginny did not latch onto the near slip. She did not make demands about any Toms or Tylers or Todds. It was not his lover that mattered to her.

"Masculo Praegnatio is only intended to be taken when a man wants to become pregnant," Ginny agreed. "It is the only known potion to induce a male pregnancy, and can only be successful in one way." Anal sex with another man. James shifted the blanket around himself. "It is intended to be taken before each encounter, and is not intended to remain in the system for longer than twelve hours. I know, James. Trust me. Potions may not be my strong suit, but this one I know plenty about."

She might know some of it, since her husband had become pregnant. James didn't even know how that came to be. He never meant to ask. Severus was the inventor of the potion. It had been released to the public three years after his birth, a year after Al's. Did Severus use Harry as a guinea pig? Did his father accept the potion willingly, or did Severus spike his juice with it? No, no, these were possibilities James had no interest in pondering.

"Look at me, James," Ginny said, and she waited. James's eyes flicked from wall to wall before finally settling on his mother. Bright brown eyes were steady, serious, reinforcing the truth and gravity of the words she spoke. "Your father took the potion by accident, James. He was feeling unwell and went to Snape's stores and grabbed the wrong phial. What he took was an tester of what is today the Masculo Praegnatio. It was not ready." Ginny tapped the counter top warningly when James looked away. Reluctantly he met her eyes again. "We were lucky you and Harry were both okay. We weren't sure how the potion would affect either of you. Hannah Longbottom closely monitored his pregnancy, and cared for you both for months after you were born. She had some medical training. Since we couldn't turn to a fully trained healer, we relied on her.

"But you have to understand, we were working with an unlicensed healer, and an experimental potion," Ginny continued. "A year after you were born, your father got pregnant again. This time, there was no potion intake." Ginny swallowed. "The potion stayed in his system, changed his body, so that he retained the ability to get pregnant. After Albus was born, Severus began brewing him contraceptives that he has taken every month since then." Hesitation now, as Ginny toyed with the strings of her bag. "We never thought it might affect you boys. You were so physically healthy, we never considered if the potion might have transferred to you. I…I don't know if that's what this is. Maybe I'm wrong. But I would like to call Hannah here just to see, okay?"

James nodded numbly. It couldn't be real, could it? Surely he hadn't developed some genetic abnormality due to his father's potion use nearly two decades ago. No, you had to take the potion to get pregnant. Wizards did not get pregnant without it. It had to be a mistake. His mother was jumping to conclusions because of her own internal struggles. She was projecting. Hannah would come and prove her wrong. They'd have a good laugh about it. He'd tease his mother for the rest of her days for her silly assumptions. One day, when he and Teddy did decide to have children, they'd look back at this moment with fond amusement.

Unthinkingly, James's hand drifted to his stomach as Ginny firecalled Hannah.

* * *

Hannah understood Ginny's concerns when she explained them. A half hour she waited while her friend found an employee to come in early so she could leave work. It was the longest half hour of her life. Restless energy urged James to pace the room, muttering to himself. Ginny leaned against the wall, staring out of the window blankly.

"Hullo," Hannah said when she finally stepped out of the Floo. She smiled kindly at James and motioned to the couch. "Let's get this over with, shall we?"

James laid out on the couch as instructed, Hannah kneeling beside him. Ginny joined them, sitting on the arm of the couch, reaching down to stroke James's hair. The boy worried his lip with teeth. As she'd always done when he was a child, she reached down to pinch his chin pointedly. James licked his lips nervously instead as Hannah frowned, performing the diagnostic spell necessary to determine pregnancy. Ginny had seen it before and knew what it meant, those hazy blue lights that sparked over his midsection.

"I'm sorry, James," Hannah said, looking from Ginny to James. "You're pregnant."

"Oh," James said, voice as hollow as Ginny felt. Her fear confirmed. The three sat in silence, all eyes on those blue lights as they faded to nothing.

* * *

When Severus awoke, he felt he was being watched. Soft fingertips traced lazy patterns into his bare chest. Frowning, Severus blearily opened his eyes, greeted immediately by two bright emeralds gazing softly down at him. Harry was propped up on his elbow, free hand still drawing designs into his flesh. Swollen pink lips curved up into a fond smile. "Good morning, Sev."

"Harry," Severus said stiffly. The boy's smile grew wider, amused by him. Severus scowled. "Good morning."

Rarely had they slept in each other's presence, not since their earliest days. Always Harry was rushing off to his wife and children, leaving Severus well enough alone. This sunny morning with Harry stretched out beside him, in no hurry to leave, was new. Severus found himself at a loss as to what to do or say.

"I thought I might go into work a little late this morning," Harry said uncertainly.

"I should rather head in soon, myself," Severus declined, glancing away from that bright gaze. "I begin a new round of tests this morning."

"Sure," Harry said, fingers drumming nervously into Severus's ribs. Severus gently took hold of them and removed the hand from his person. "Shall I…come by after work?"

"I'm not sure when I'll wrap up today," Severus said, focusing his gaze on the corner of the ceiling.

"Ah," Harry said, tone chilly. "You'll be meeting with Esther today?"

"Indeed," Severus agreed. They did work together, after all, regardless of Harry's insecurities. Did he owe Esther, he wondered, an explanation? His guilt? From the beginning it had been only sex, no strings attached, and even their newfound addition of date nights had not been meant as any form of commitment. Perhaps he should have been clearer on that front.

For that matter, he and Harry did not have any sort of agreements in place. Harry had come here with his assumptions. His heart lifted as he considered his lover's words from the previous night. Severus had his chance now, with Harry. Almost he could hope. Realistically, he knew better. A break was a temporary arrangement. Harry might believe he was offering a treat, but in the end he would return to Ginevra, just as he always did.

And just as he always did, he would leave Severus's heart trampled behind him.

Unless, of course, Severus could convince him otherwise. He had six months to do so. The dark matter of lust and greed swelled deep within his soul. Yes, he could apply all of his cleverness into seducing the brat. Harry belonged to him, and at last he might have the one he craved. The darkness within turned sharp, thorny, reaching out to the wizard beside him, to sink in its claws and hold him steadfast, digging in its talons and pulling him into its shadowy depths. Severus would tuck him away and keep him forever. Cling to him suffocatingly, devour him whole. Wholly he would be Severus's, hidden away from the world, his secret treasure.

There was nothing he wanted more, but it was a fool's dream.

Birds chirped cheerily outside. The yellow sunlight smiled upon the bed. Harry's body was warm comfort at his side. He smelled of dried sweat and sex. Black hair was rumpled fetchingly. Severus was well acquainted with every curve, every scar, every inch of that body. Fierce, painful joy pierced him. This, unfolding into forever. This, for the rest of his life. Terrible fantasies plagued his weary mind. Harry, with him, where he belonged.

Cruel of Harry, to offer such lies.

"I will owl you when I am finished, if that is satisfactory," Severus offered. There were six months, after all, of unfettered access to the athletic body at his side. If nothing else, Severus could indulge there, even as the ugliest face of his nature pleaded for more. Hope was an ugly gift. One he would have to punish the boy for.

Harry beamed at him, a childlike glimmer of unadulterated pleasure lighting his eyes. "Sure. Yeah, I'd like that." Severus quickly jerked himself out of bed, sweeping into the shower next door before the boy could break his heart further with his open adoration.

* * *

Hogwarts gossiped about Albus and Mabel's breakup for all of a few days. Neither could go to class without their peers leaning in close to ask what had happened. Resolutely, neither responded. Albus would meet curious gazes with coldness, waiting them out until they turned away uneasily. Fire blazed in Mabel's eyes as she looked challengingly at questioners, offering strained kindness in her refusal to answer.

A pack of her fellow Hufflepuffs surrounded Mabel protectively at all times. Albus had only Scorpius, but it was Albus himself who stood ready to defend himself against further intrusions.

"No wonder she broke up with him," whispered a fourth year Ravenclaw as she scurried away.

"I heard he cheated on her. Just like a Slytherin!"

"Nah, she was way too nice for him. He got bored."

"But they used to be so in love," lamented a fifth year Gryffindor as Albus and Scorpius turned a corner one afternoon. Albus's jaw twitched. He had never told Mabel he loved her. It wasn't love. It could have been, might have been, had he stayed any longer.

"He's a Potter," snorted Almeda Fawley, a fellow sixth year Slytherin. "He can do better." From the flirtatious smiles she offered him in the common room, Albus knew just who Almeda thought would be better for him. She was a pretty enough girl. Tall and slim, with alabaster skin, blood red hair down to her waist, and eyes the same purple-gray of storm clouds, she had plenty of suitors herself. She had never shown interest in Albus before, but since his newfound availability, a predatory gleam had entered her eyes.

But she was no Mabel.

Professor Longbottom was as cordial to him as ever. In fact, he went out of his way to make chit chat during class, which Albus assumed was his way of showing the breakup would have no affect on their relationship. He had to admit, it eased his soul. Neville and Hannah had been a part of his life all growing up. They were like an extra uncle and aunt. Their closeness with the Potters made sense, given all they knew.

Maybe his parents had told the Longbottoms what befell them over summer. Maybe Neville understood. Albus certainly hoped so. He didn't want to lose more than just Mabel.

By the third day, the school's gossip train had found fresh meat. Velma Thomas and Xavia Zabini had been caught "canoodling" in the Astronomy Tower well past curfew by Headmistress McGonagall herself. Two girls, enemies on the Quidditch field, Gryffindor and Slytherin, it had all the makings of a good drama. Albus was starting to think he was in the clear.

"They say Xavia Imperiused Velma," Albus contributed cheerily.

"They always think the worst of us, don't they?" sighed Scorpius.

"Yes, but it adds to our mystery and prestige!" Besides, Albus thought, no one really thought Xavia used an Unforgivable Curse. Did any proof exist, she would have been expelled and hauled to the Ministry for sure.

"Is that why you broke up with Mabel? For the mystery and prestige?"

Scorpius tripped over his robes at the sound of Rose Weasley's voice. Albus rolled his eyes before turning to face his cousin. She had been trailing silently behind them on their way out to Care of Magical Creatures. Rose frowned distastefully at Scorpius as the boy hastily smoothed down his blond hair. Her frizzy red hair whipped across her face in the wind, obscuring her calculating expression.

"Why does it matter to you, Rose?" Albus asked exasperatedly.

"She's a good person," Rose explained. "And she's devastated." A shrewd look crossed her face. "Did you cheat on her?"

Denial twisted his lips, but he clamped them shut. For days he had kept himself from responding to the most ludicrous of accusations. He was not going to falter now at the most innocuous of them.

His cousin's expression softened. "I thought not. So, what was it, then?"

"Leave well enough alone," Albus said, continuing his trek out to Hagrid's teaching area.

"Do you actually find her dull, then?" Rose asked. "Because I quite agree, but that's not a good enough reason to break up with someone. There are more important aspects to a relationship than entertainment value."

May was not dull by any means, Albus argued internally. Just because she wasn't mean or quick with her words, because she opted for pleasantries over cleverness, because she cared more for others than herself, none of these were good enough reasons to call a person boring. If anyone took the chance to get to know her, they would find her endlessly fascinating. She had plenty to say, if you gave her the chance to express herself. The placidness of her listener persona gave way to passionate glee for most things. She had a zest for life, did Mabel. Genuinely, she enjoyed people and things and experiences, never taking for granted what the world offered her.

"One also needs stability in a partnership," Scorpius added in conversationally. "A partner they can count on. It so happens that I have a very healthy inheritance, as well as a variety of career options…Rose? Where are you going?"

Shaking her head in disgust, Rose sped ahead of them, disappearing into a crowd of Gryffindors once she joined the class. "Good work, Scorp," Albus said, clapping his disappointed friend on the back. "I thought she'd never drop it."

Hagrid offered a very colorful lesson on fwoopers that day. The brightly colored birds perched on their professor, in his hair, on his shoulders, one even hanging upside down from his belt. That particular fwooper glared at them, as if daring them to comment on his humiliation. Hagrid explained their mating habits, their lifespan, and other dull tidbits in the first minute. From there he gave a lengthy, enthusiastic lecture about their patterned eggs (collector's items), their beautiful feathers (used for quills), and a teary-eyed ode to their insanity-causing song. Colorful feathers were carried by the wind, dancing with the fallen leaves in the grass. Albus plucked an orange one from near his foot, idly thinking of it being Mabel's favorite color as he carefully placed it in the inner pocket of his robes.

"Jus' a second won' do no harm," Hagrid said, lifting the one from his belt. It's head bulged alarmingly in his grip. Rose cried out, "No!" as Hagrid lifted the Silencing Charm.

"Silencio!" Albus and Rose shouted, wands out and aimed at the vengeful fwooper. Fearfully the other students screamed as they ran for Hagrid's nearby hut. The fwooper sang its high pitched song as the spells shot right past him. He hovered, godlike, before them wings spread to their fullest potential.

And Hagrid snatched him out of midair, gently squeezing his little throat. The lime green bird's head puffed up again, eyes near popping. Rose quickly cast a successful Silencing Charm on the bird before either Hagrid or the fwooper itself could do more harm.

Albus placed his hands on his knees to catch his breath. Rose twirled a green feather around in her fingers, then placed it in Albus's untamed hair. "I know we're not as close as we used to be, but you can talk to me, you know. If you need to. If you want to." She offered him a smile.

"Thanks, Rose."

It would not be to Rose that Albus would unload himself. Still, he toyed with her words as the class headed back to the castle for lunch. It would be nice to confide in Rose, to be good friends again. They had been joined at the hip as children. Both witty, both curious, both self-satisfied. It was their Sortings that divided them, however silly it seemed. House rivalries were childish things. They'd always sworn to be best friends no matter what, whether they both made it into Ravenclaw or neither (the House both preferred when setting out on the Hogwarts Express). Pinky promises between children were no bar to reality.

"You picked that feather for her, didn't you?" Scorpius asked.

Confused, his hand drifted up to his hair where the green feather waved like a flag between the black locks. Blushing, he remembered the orange feather still safe in his robes.

"You can talk to me, too, you know?" his friend offered. "It…it's something to do with your parents, isn't it?"

Throat tight, Albus nodded.

"Thought so," Scorpius said. "My parents were madly in love. I wasn't sure Dad would survive when Mum passed away. Makes you really believe in love. I guess…what you're going through might have the opposite affect. Maybe seeing the ruin it might make you bitter about love."

"Not bitter," Albus whispered. Scared, he couldn't quite say.

"If you say so," Scorpius said. "Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

"I know," Albus relented, walking closer to bump his shoulder against Scorpius's. "Sometimes I think you're the only one I can count on."

Scorpius laughed, the sound pleased, but there was something sad in his face. "That's not true, Al. Plenty of people would have your back. You just don't let them."

Albus considered this as they traipsed into the Great Hall. Over pumpkin juice and turkey sandwiches, Albus despairingly thought of his genetic inheritance. Harry Potter in miniature, at least in appearance; Severus Snape in mind and bearing. At times it seemed as if no one understood him, as if he was eternally out of place. Now he wondered if he didn't set himself apart. Had he always been this afraid of letting people in? Was it fear of people, or the ordinary? Albus wanted to be greater, craved to be "other", but also disliked ostracism. Self-imposed ostracism, maybe.

Slytherin to the core. A true Snape, at that. His pumpkin juice tasted as bitter as the thought.

* * *

Only when Hannah left did the reality sink in. Ginny was in the kitchen, putting the leftover soup in the fridge, cleaning dishes, wiping counters. The suspended disbelief held true until she heard James quietly sobbing from the couch. Ginny dropped her sponge, didn't bother drying her wet, sudsy hands as she ran to him. He sat there, arms spread helplessly, face twisted in stunned horror.

"Mum, I don't know what to do," he sobbed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She sank onto the couch beside him, pulling him close. "I can't be a dad. I'm not ready. I'm only eighteen. I'm supposed to play Quidditch. We were supposed to be married and settled first, I was supposed to be older. I didn't think this could happen. I didn't know!"

"I know, my baby, shhh," Ginny cooed, rubbing his back.

"Teddy's going to hate me, he's going to think I did this on purpose," James groaned. "We didn't plan this."

Ginny blinked, thoughts halting, refusing to acknowledge what James let slip. "Teddy?"

"Oh, Mum," James cried. "I made a mistake."

* * *

"I made a mistake." she recalled Harry saying nearly twenty years before. Things were good between them, better than ever. The threat of divorce sobered them, driving them to fight even harder for each other and the life they were building with one another. They'd had their day all planned, one Saturday. They would have brunch at the new local diner, do a little window shopping, then fly together just the two of them. Ginny had her own plans for that night, cooking dinner and serving it in the new negligee she'd recently owl ordered. It fit her like a dream. Harry would lose his mind when he saw her.

"What?" Ginny had asked, unconcerned. She sat her vanity, dabbing perfume on her neck. Harry stood in the doorway of their bedroom clutching a letter, face white. When she caught sight of his reflection in the mirror she frowned, turning in her chair to face him. "Harry?"

"Severus…" Harry licked his lips nervously and lifted the letter. "He says…I took a potion from his stores some months back, for a migraine. Only I grabbed one from the wrong shelf. They looked similar, and I…" His mouth worked soundlessly.

"Are you alright?" Ginny demanded, jumping to her feet. She snatched the letter out of his hand, scanning the contents. "What happened?"

"I'm pregnant," Harry whispered. His words rang in her ear over and over. She read the words on the parchment over and over. None of them made sense. "Or, I might be. We'll…have to check. But I…I think I might be."

Ginny just blinked, handing the letter back to Harry. The majority of the text had been Snape's familiar jibes against Harry's intellect, fury over the mistaken use of an experimental potion, and…other words. How many times have I had my cock in you since then, boy?" It was a phrase, an old saying, or a new one. Not one Ginny knew or understood.

"When we were separated," Harry admitted, voice barely audible. "I slept with Severus. We weren't together, and I…I was…I don't know. I don't know why I did it, but I did. And…" Fear in those beloved green eyes, the glint of a tear trailing down his cheek. His throat worked as he swallowed. Ginny gaped at him. Still the words had no meaning to her, as if he were speaking gibberish. "I don't know what to do."

"We'll have to ask for help," Ginny said. The words left her mouth, but she did not feel they were own. She was outside of her body, listening to herself speak. Her soul was numb. Whoever was taking charge now could not be Ginny, for Ginny was trapped in a fog.

"How? How do I…tell…I don't…"

"Hannah. She's training to be a healer," Ginny's mouth said. "She can help. We'll swear her to secrecy, her and Neville both. We'll get answers, and we'll go from there. We'll figure this out, Harry."

* * *

"We'll figure this out, James," Ginny promised presently. She held the trembling boy in her arms. "We'll get through this together."


	10. Won't Trust the Air With Secrets

Chapter 10: Won't Trust the Air With Secrets

Chapter Text

Sudsy water sloshed over the sides of the tub as Harry fucked himself on Severus's cock. Harry's hands were grasping the edges of the tub behind Severus, while Severus's own struggled to maintain hold of his hips, skin too slippery for purchase. He stared down where their bodies joined, roaming possessively over the planes of his stomach and chest. No womanly curves here, but sharp edges of an athlete and a man. The toned chest, the wiry black hair trailing down his navel, the jutting red cock, none of it would have been attractive on anyone but Harry. Severus could not help but love and crave every inch of the man on top of him.

Severus pressed his feet hard against porcelain, bucking his hips upward, drawing a sharp cry from the other wizard's throat. This was them at their best, surrendering to demands of the flesh. This was what they knew. The auror impaled himself urgently, gasping at every push downward. Severus bit irresistibly at the shapely jaw tempting him.

"Say something," Harry groaned.

Severus pushed his face up, pressing his forehead to Harry's. Green eyes, hazy with lust, gazed into him. "Do you know what I love, Harry?"

"What?" he gasped.

"Being inside of you," Severus purred. "You're always so tight, so hot for me." Green eyes fluttered shut, teeth biting into lower lip. "Look at me." Obediently, the green returned. "You were made for me. Every centimeter of you was built for my pleasure."

"Fuck," Harry blurted, movements becoming erratic. Severus gripped him hard, pulling him down flush against him, humping his hips up, pressing himself firmly, slowly in and out of his lover. Harry's arms moved to encircle his neck.

"I want to crawl inside of you, body and soul," Severus crooned into his ear. Harry trembled in his arms, moaning continuously. His voice held power over the auror; Severus had never understood, but he wielded it to his best advantage. "You're mine, Harry. Wherever you go, whatever you do, every part of you belongs to me."

"Yes, yes, yes," Harry chanted, going still against him as his cock jerked against Severus's stomach, erupting between them. Severus grunted as the channel around him tightened, pulsing around him, pulling his own orgasm from him before he was ready.

The water settled calmly around them as they rested against each other. Severus closed his eyes, lazily trailing fingers up and down Harry's spine. Harry kissed lightly where his face rested against his chest. The night sounds of grasshoppers and frogs outside filled the room where their cries had once drowned them out.

He had been readying for a shower when Harry arrived after work. With a sly grin, the boy suggested a shared bath, which Severus could hardly refuse. It was for the best; he intentionally worked late to avoid dinner and dessert, sharing perhaps a glass of wine before retiring to bed. For days he'd avoided unpleasantness by fucking Harry to sleep.

"Are we going to avoid talking about this forever?" Harry asked after a while. The bath water was cold and the bubbles dispersed.

"There is nothing to say," Severus sighed, rubbing his temples. Thankfully Harry did not lift himself, instead continuing to rest against him.

"There's plenty to say," Harry said quietly. "Is this all there is to us? The sex?"

Severus gently pushed Harry away from him. Harry sat up and scooted back to the other end of the tub, watching him sadly. Severus didn't dare look at him. The kicked puppy look was more than he could bear. Severus disliked being affected so by the emotions of others.

The sex was all there had ever been between them, all there could have been. From the start, Severus hadn't dared wish for more, though at the time he might have. Harry and Ginny had been on the path to divorce in those days. For weeks Harry was his, and his alone, sharing him and his life with no one else. Life had taught him that he never got to keep what was precious and good, never having what he wanted most. When Harry informed him he would be reconciling with Ginny, he hadn't been surprised. Heartbroken, yes, but not surprised.

"I want to try," Harry said, sensing Severus would not respond. "I want to see what this can be."

"It can't be anything," Severus said, tone dull and tired. Harry pulled his legs back as Severus stood, stepping out of the bath and drying himself on a soft black towel.

"You don't know that," Harry argued, shifting around to lean over, arms resting on the edges of the tub.

"I do," Severus snapped. "Let's pretend, for a moment, that you were so inclined to divorce your wife. I have nothing to offer you."

"You have a lot to offer."

"I don't. Not to you," Severus snapped. "I can give you a hard fuck when you're panting like a whore." Harry flinched. "I don't date, Potter."

His life had been his own since it began. The marriage between his parents had never been one to model. Lily had captured his heart, carrying it in her pocket as she wed his sworn enemy. Her death shattered him. His commitment to the war effort, his promises to Dumbledore, stole his ambitions and held him hostage in a role he never wanted. Fate had taken an unpleasant boy and crafted him into a cruel man. No one between Lily and Harry had captured his interest. The only release of sexual urges took place in dark bars with equally desperate women.

What did he know of relationships? Severus was too old, now, too set in his ways to accommodate a partner. Efficiently he dressed himself in his plain black pajamas. Maybe he loved Harry; maybe Harry loved him. It wasn't enough. The deepest desires of his heart would never fix them, would never make the pieces fit.

The very thought of it frightened him, though he refused to acknowledge it.

"You were dating Esther," Harry spat petulantly as he finally stood, drying off on a spare towel. "Or are you still?"

Severus hadn't thought of her in days. Even at work he'd avoided her, though unintentionally. He threw himself into his brewing, into his research, wanting to deprive Harry of time to have this very conversation.

Now he thought of Harry's interruption of their last meeting, the envious fury blazing like green fire in his face. The biting words, the possessive clutching, evidence of his want. Severus reveled in it. Even then he'd sensed the ready weapon in hand, and now chose to make use of it once more.

"Esther is more worthy of my effort," Severus sneered. Towel wrapped low around his hips, Harry advanced angrily. Hand shooting out, he grabbed the boy's hair and held his head back. "She has more to offer me than you do, boy. You provide a nice variety, but you cannot fulfill my needs. You lack," here he flicked one exposed nipple. Harry snatched his wrist, crushing it hard in his grip, "what whets my appetite. You lack her soft breasts and her wet cunt," here, Harry's free hand grasped the front of his nightshirt, "and even if you had them you would lack her perspicacity." Severus laughed rudely at the furrow of brows. "It means she's intelligent, you stupid child." The glitter of tears in those eyes, crushing his heart even as it urged the dark, gluttonous being within. "It appears you lack even her composure."

"You're right," Harry croaked, pushing him away. Severus loosened his grip before he pulled out hair. "This would never work."

Harry Disapparated, abandoning the auror robes he'd arrived in. Severus picked up the scarlet robes, folding them neatly, breathing deeply, using the familiar motions to ease his rattled nerves. The folded garment he set aside as he wished he could set aside his regret.

There was only one cure for that.

* * *

"I'm sorry to turn up like this," Harry said, tugging at the borrowed nightshirt he wore. It was a little loose on him, but that suited him just fine.

"I'm just glad it was me answering the door and not Hannah," Neville chuckled. "I don't need you stealing my wife." Here Neville winced. "Sorry, mate."

Harry shrugged, though the comment stung. Neville found a spare blanket, draping it over the couch, then transfigured the stolen towel into a pillow. Like an idiot, Harry had left without his wand or his robes. He would retrieve them in the morning once Severus left for work, if he didn't have the decency to owl them.

"Thanks," Harry said, nodding to the set up. "I didn't want to be alone in that house tonight."

"Sure, anytime," Neville nodded. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Harry considered this. Hannah and Neville were good friends, better than he deserved, to offer so much aid in his time of need, and holding their tongues all these years. Despite the knowledge held by the Longbottoms, he and Ginny did not make a habit of confiding in them. A matter of pride, perhaps.

The few times he had spoken to Neville about this mess, it was always in regards to Ginny. He never actually spoke about his conflicting emotions for Severus. Only once had the man entered their conversations, and it had been Neville to bring him up.

It was after a fight with Severus after which Harry had turned to his friends. Going to Ron and Hermione might be tempting would they not wonder what was bothering him. Neville would understand, Harry thought, even if he didn't say anything. He wouldn't feel the need to pretend. Neville knew of the struggles in his marriage, knew of his attraction to Severus. Harry didn't think words would be required. Neville accepted his presence, abandoning garden work to brew tea.

"Fight with Ginny?" Neville asked, no presumption in his manner. If Harry changed the subject, Neville would entertain him. He didn't have to talk, if he didn't want to, but he could.

"Not Ginny," Harry explained, content to leave it at that. There was no need to mention his lover, but his friend would understand, or so he'd thought.

Neville scoffed, shaking his head. Harry frowned. "Why can't you leave him alone, Harry?"

"Me?" Harry was shocked. "He's the one-"

"I don't care about that," Neville said, pushing away his own tea. He frowned seriously at Harry. "Are you sleeping with him again?"

Harry's mouth worked uselessly, panicked and unsure of how to respond. Finally he slumped his shoulders and dropped his gaze, mixing more honey into his tea to busy his hands.

"Damn it, Harry," Neville swore. "What is wrong with you?"

"You don't understand," Harry muttered.

"You're damn right, I don't understand! You have a loving wife at home. Ginny deserves better than this," Neville told him seriously. "I really thought better of you."

The worst part of the whole interaction had been the disappointment in Neville's voice at the end. Shame had burned him then, soaking in it as he sipped his too sweet tea. Neville didn't drink his own, instead fiddling with the cup or stirring the cooling liquid. Eventually Hannah entered, two year old Mabel on her hip. Both witches grinned at him. Hannah used her free hand to grab her wand, magically slicing and serving lemon poppyseed cake to both wizards.

"What do you see in him, anyway? He's as nasty as he's always been," Neville asked as Hannah fixed Mabel some juice. Hannah's pleasant expression faded as she glanced between them.

Aware of the audience, Harry nibbled on the cake, considering whether or not to speak. Severus's words were thorns piercing his heart, sharp even now, hours later. He would never be charming, or even kind. He was as ugly on the inside as he was on the outside, he thought spitefully. What did that say about him? It embarrassed him, he had to admit, how enthralled he was by their ex professor. Let alone being so deeply in love with him.

"Ginny and I share something special," Harry explained. He poured more tea for himself and held the hot cup between his palms. "We're partners. It's like we're one person, sometimes, the way we move together, work together, one well-oiled machine. I could not ask for a better wife, or a better mother for my children." It was a punch to the gut, knowing she was at home now, alone with two children under the age of five, two rambunctious boys. Under the pretense of working an extra shift, he had gone to Severus, throwing himself into the man, ending in a spectacular blowout. Harry barely remembered what had started it all. A comment about the children, he thought, but he couldn't be sure.

"But Severus…he understands me. In ways even Ginny can't. In ways no one can," Harry confessed. "He's inside of me. He's in my gut." Briefly it crossed his mind, how the words might be taken, but neither Hannah or Neville laughed. They were listening intently. "He's always there. Even when I stay away from him, I can feel him there. It's a tether; it pulls at me. I…I could resist, if I wanted, but I don't want to. I want to…" He flushed here, realizing how he sounded. How pathetic it was. "But I know it's wrong. I know I should stay away."

Neville nodded. "You should." He sighed. "You have to choose between them eventually. I'd forgive it if you chose him, if you would only decide. It's not fair to him, either, you know."

"Yeah, I know." It wasn't right. He had to make a choice. But how did you choose between the two people you loved most? When losing either of them would be like losing a limb?

Some Gryffindor he made, cowardly avoiding a real decision. Even when he quit Severus's bed, he couldn't quit his presence. He couldn't quit thinking about him. Always the boys were his excuse, wanting them to have a relationship with their father, whether or not they knew it. It wasn't right to Severus, to deprive him of his own sons. Secretly, Harry took selfish enjoyment of what little contact they had these past several years.

Even when the children were at school, he and Ginny continued their Sunday visits. They were still friends, Harry would assure his wife. Just friends, finally. Ginny would join him, play chaperon, barely maintaining civility with Severus. They were never enjoyable visits, just the three of them, but Harry always looked forward to Sundays.

"Ginny and I are taking a break, did you know?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. She's been talking to Hannah," Neville replied.

Harry nodded. "Severus and I have…" He cleared his throat. Neville laughed. "We've been fucking, but that's about it. Part of that's my fault. That's the easy part, for us. But I don't want that to be all. I want to know if…if this can work. I want to know what it would be like, if we were together. Isn't that the whole point of this?"

"It is," Neville agreed. "At least from my understanding."

"Right. Only Severus doesn't see it that way," Harry ranted. "He was mean. He's always mean. But he won't even try." Embarrassed by the tightness of his throat and the burning of his eyes, he turned from his friend to rub his face. "He's got some girlfriend now. She's smart enough for him. Has all the lady bits he likes. He was sure to rub that in my face."

"Wait, he has an actual girlfriend?" Neville asked, surprised.

"Near enough," Harry said.

"Hmm," Neville said.

Harry sighed and flopped down on the couch. "I know. I'm a right arse, aren't I? If he's moved on, I should just let him go. Right?"

"Well, yeah."

"Yeah. And I'm being selfish, wanting him to drop everything to give me a chance. When I can't even guarantee it will go anywhere," he carried on dully. The truth of it ate at him. When had he become such a selfish bastard? Always wanting to have his cake and eat it, too. Never fair to Ginny, never fair to Severus, even now. Freedom had come too late, and he would never know what they could be. Vaguely he was aware of the tears streaking down his face, of Neville joining him on the couch.

"Yeah," Neville said gently. "You're in love with him. It hurts. I get that. But you can't blame him for moving on, finally."

"I know," Harry agreed. It wasn't right for Severus to be screwing around on Esther, if they were a couple. Even if they weren't, Harry couldn't keep giving himself to Severus when all it would be was sex. Funny that now - now that he and Ginny were apart - now he would have to learn how to let Severus go for good. "Do you have any firewhisky?"

"I already had Hannah lock up the goods," Neville said, patting his shoulder. "But you can have some cake. Hannah made a black forest this evening."

"Cake is good."

* * *

"I apologize for the late intrusion," Severus said, accepting a glass of wine from Esther. She wore a thick pink bathrobe and fuzzy slippers, hair in a towel on top of her head. Esther had been fresh from a shower when Severus knocked on her door. It was a shame he was so recently satisfied; he entertained the idea of bedding her, if only to get the taste of Harry out of his mouth. Drive away the wizard's touch, his kiss, the smell of him. Punish him further. It would drive him insane to know what he could do to Esther; he would give her his very best just to spite the brat.

"I don't mind," Esther smiled. "I don't get the impression you are looking for sex."

"I certainly wouldn't mind it," Severus commented. All he required was an aphrodisiac. If he was lucky, he might make due without one. "Auror Potter is an infuriating creature, and I rather hoped for more stimulating company."

"Infuriation isn't stimulating?" Esther teased.

Sadly, it was, and in more ways than Esther knew. Harry got under his skin the way no one ever had. He only thought he had known passion, with the ardor Lily had inspired in him; how strange it would be her son to drive him to the depths of madness. How disgusting was he, to go from lusting for the mother to lusting for the son?

Esther sipped her wine. "I had noticed you've been especially busy of late. Are you aiding the Auror Department?"

"Nothing I am free to speak on." He had already considered that very excuse. Convenient for Esther to arrive to the conclusion herself.

"Far be it from me to intrude upon important work," Esther said. She stepped set her glass on the mantle beside them to slide her arms around his middle. "When you need a reprieve, you are always welcome here." Shyly, she pressed a kiss to his neck. "You may stay the night, if you like." Severus's free arm wound around her slender form, hand sliding down to caress womanly curves. This body was soft, welcoming. He could sink his teeth into this generous flesh. Severus knew all of the places to touch to make her scream. She was a violin, and he could play her to perfection. All of the possibilities flashed through his mind's eye.

"That is an appealing offer, I must confess," he breathed into her ear, setting his glass beside hers. Her hair was thin and dry where he combed his fingers through, but long. Her lips were equally thin and dry pressing against his, but she tasted of wine where her tongue teased his. Severus reacquainted himself with every delicious sample Harry would never have, delighting himself in every wound he had dug into his lover tonight. Esther was too distracted to notice the aphrodisiac he sipped. And it was with Harry in mind that he set himself to the task of showing Esther pleasure she had never before known.

* * *

After work for days, Ginny would go straight to James's flat to fix dinner. While James considered his options, he opted for lighter topics. They spoke of Quidditch, of music, of family gossip, any subject but the one that mattered most. Ginny allowed this. She had her own thoughts, but this was James's life and his decision to make. Instead she offered what support she could, feeding him, filling his home with goods. Now he had a nice chair in the living room, cupboards full of food, ample dinnerware in his cabinets, decorative items to give a more homey feel. Today she'd brought over candles, vases, and figurines to set out on tabletops and bookshelves.

"That smells good, Mum," James said cheerfully as he entered the kitchen.

"Fisherman's pie, your favorite," Ginny told him. A wave of her wand set a knife to slicing the bread. Another spell had a whisk working batter on the counter. "And cherry bakewell for dessert."

"You're the best!" James grinned. Pulling out his own wand, he set the table untidily and set a jug of pumpkin juice to pour itself into two glasses. Household spells were never his strong suit. The juice sloshed over the sides.

"Oh, sit down, Jay," Ginny fussed. A spell of her own cleaned the mess and floated the glasses to the table. In her own home, his messy spellwork had been a point of frustration. Here, in his home, it was charming. Ginny could not decide if it was because of the change in location, or the fact of their tenuous relationship.

James was still her sweet boy, regardless of outside circumstances. Who could resist that impish smile? Teddy should have, Ginny thought to herself. James should have known better than to chase a taken wizard, but he came by it honestly. Ginny didn't have it in her to blame him for any of it.

By the time dinner was served, dessert was put in the oven to bake as they ate. James raved for her cooking prowess. None of the children preferred her cooking, so the compliments were flattering. Lies, of course. Her fisherman's pie was average, at best. It was the gesture that mattered.

"I was thinking, James," Ginny began as she summoned the bakewells from the oven. She waited until his mouth was full of the tart before saying, "You should probably talk to Teddy about this." James choked on his tart. "That's his baby, too. He helped you get into this."

"I can't just pretend it isn't happening?" James laughed weakly.

"Birth would be a nasty shock," Ginny said dryly.

"Yeah," James sighed. "I don't know." He looked so small as he muttered, "I'm scared."

"I know," Ginny said. "I wish I could take it all away for you. But I can't. I'll be here for you. Always. But Teddy is the father. He should be involved. He deserves the chance to be involved."

James slowly chewed his tart, staring into space. Ginny leaned back in her seat, just watching him. Only eighteen years old, a naive child. She could kill Teddy for seducing him. She could kill Harry and Snape, for it was them she blamed for his falling into bed with a taken man. It was their sins James was paying for. Some part of her knew James was at fault for his own actions. More convenient for her to target anyone else. It didn't have to be fair. It was all done in the safety of her own mind, after all.

"I'll think about it," James eventually agreed.

"Good." Ginny smiled contentedly. James nibbled distractedly on his dessert. This was the legacy he had been born to. No, not James's sin, but Harry's and Snape's. And Teddy's, too. But Teddy still deserved the truth, and maybe just maybe he would make the right choice. Not Snape's choice.

* * *

The acid green ear suctioned to the wall connected to the radio at Pansy Parkinson's desk. Ginny and James's conversation echoed from the speakers. Pansy smirked, nibbling at the tip of her quill. It was just her luck as Daily Prophet correspondent when she found an available flat next door to Gideon Crumb's daughter. Chrysanthemum Crumb never knew how all of her indiscretions became public knowledge. Pansy got lucky a second time when Harry Potter's eldest moved next door. Pansy hadn't known what a jackpot it would turn out to be. James Sirius Potter - pregnant with Teddy Lupin's child! For that had to be the Teddy mentioned by Ginny. If not, it would still make an excellent news story.

On her parchment, Pansy crossed out Teddy's name. No, she would save that revelation for a rainy day. Harry Potter's son getting himself knocked up was a big enough news story on its own. Front page worthy, even. Humming to herself, Pansy began scribbling a rough draft for her article. She was definitely getting a raise after this!


End file.
